New Dreams for Old
by Lady Andie
Summary: On her own, Katie Bell has almost convinced herself that she has forgotten Oliver Wood... almost. What will happen when he walks back into her dreams, and more importantly, back into her life?
1. Prologue

**New Dreams for Old**

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**Prologue  
  
**

_   
Her lungs were burning, her head ached, and with each step, her legs seemed more likely to collapse under her. They had been running for hours, it seemed, and still they flew through the shadows, stumbling over stones and roots while the branches of the trees clutched at their clothes and hair. She was faintly aware of the sting of numerous scratches on her face and arms, the cool trickle of blood that slowly made its way down her cheek. _

_ She could hear the voices growing closer, could hear the low rumble of horses' hooves as they broke through the undergrowth. One voice rose above the others, shouting distorted orders and sending icy waves of fear through her. Her lover heard it too, for she could feel him stiffen even as he ran. His grip on her hand tightened until it was almost painful, and he pulled her forward more urgently, his harsh breathing gaining a ragged edge that matched her own. _

_ A triumphant shout behind them told her that their path had been discovered, and the rumbling of the horses became a thunder as their pursuers crashed through the trees. She threw a glance over her shoulder, her heart clutching in her chest as she saw for the first time the dim flicker of torches burning in the shadows behind them. Darker silhouettes against the trees. They were close now. So close…. _

_ Her foot caught on a stone and she fell to the ground, a long-suppressed sob breaking from her throat as she fell. Her companion had turned in an instant, pulling her from the earth and into his arms, whispering words that she could not understand, pulling her forward gently, urging her on with hands and voice. She shook her head. _

_ "I..I can't… They're coming… They're almost here…." Her legs gave way beneath her and she fell to her knees, sobbing against his chest, her fingers curling helplessly in the torn fabric of his shirt. "He's found us… He's found us…. I'm so sorry… I…." _

_ He sank down beside her, gathering her into his arms. "Shh…. It's all right…." _

_ She shook her head miserably. "You should have gone on alone. You could have made it back to your men by now, and I…." _

_ She could feel the gentle pressure of his lips against her hair, the faint stirring of his breath on her cheek as he laughed softly. His chest rose and fell heavily under her fingers, smooth and broad under the tattered shirt that he wore. His lips touched her hair again, then moved to her temple, lingering there for a moment before brushing lightly against her brow. She shivered slightly as he murmured against her skin. His breath was warm, his touch gentle. _

_ "Do you think I could have left you?" _

_ "I thought you had forgotten me…." _

_ He pulled her closer still, lowering his forehead until it rested on her dark curls. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "Never. Never you…." _

_She smiled, but it faded quickly and she let out a shuddering breath, then closed her eyes and uncurled her fingers against the smooth skin of his chest. "He'll kill you… You know that…." _

_"Maybe…." _

_She opened her eyes looked up into his. They were dark, and deep, the color of richly polished mahogany, with a sparkle in them that spoke of confidence and no small amount of mischief. His hair clung to his forehead and temples in unruly curls, damp with sweat and blood from a large gash at his hairline. A similar wound cut a crimson path through the dark stubble on his jaw line, disappearing into the thick chestnut curls that fell over his shoulders. A smile tugged lightly at his full lips. _

_"But that's only if he can catch us." _

_"What?" _

_He laughed again, softly, standing and pulling her by the hand to stand with him. "Listen… What do you hear?" _

_ She shook her head, then turned it, not quite looking over her shoulder. "I hear horses, and voices, and they're getting closer…." She looked back into his laughing eyes, her voice trembling. "Please, darling… Before it's too late…." _

_He smiled and traced the pad of his thumb lightly over the cut on her cheek. "No, love… What else do you hear?" _

_She shook her head, not understanding, but as she opened her mouth to repeat her plea, she heard it. A gentle rumble, the rhythmic, hissing crash of waves breaking upon ancient rock, the sharp cry of gulls circling in an unseen sky. She drew a quick breath. How could she have missed it before? _

_"The sea…." _

_ His smile widened, his even white teeth a sharp contrast to his tanned skin. "The sea." He slid his hand down her cheek, over her shoulder, letting it linger on the soft skin of her arm before taking her small hand in his once more. He took a step back toward the sound, and she followed, a great swell of hope rising in her breast. _

_"And your men?" _

_ He glanced over his shoulder toward the sound of the sea. "Are waiting with my ship in a cove not far from here." He then turned and looked over her shoulder toward the shouting voices of their pursuers, then into her eyes. The laughter still lingered, but there was also determination and that same silent urgency. "But our 'friends' are getting closer. Hurry, love…." _

_He needed to say nothing more. In the space of a breath, they were racing through the shadows once more, toward the sound of the sea and the thin patches of gray-blue sky that could be seen through the most distant trees. He urged her on, and she followed, barely aware of the darkness and the thorns and the stones flying under her feet as they tore through the trees, until the patches of sky grew brighter and the undergrowth thinned to make way for large, uneven clumps of dull green sea grass._

_The trees fell back suddenly, and they emerged into the sunlight. The ground was harder than it had been in the forest, covered with scrub grass and large boulders that climbed up before them like a huge stone staircase. He scrambled up the first step, turning to help her follow. It was more difficult for her in her heavy skirts, and he had to pull her up most of the way, the muscles in his bronzed arms straining as she scrambled up the sheer stone face. By the time they reached a small alcove at the top of the third stone step, they were both panting and their bodies were covered with a thin sheet of sweat, but they looked at each other and could not banish the smiles from their faces._

_ She laughed breathlessly and lay her head on the warm stone at her back, taking deep breaths of the salty air and relishing the feeling of the sunlight on her face. Her arms and legs felt as though they would never move again, and her sweat was stinging the scratches on her face and arms, but the air was cool, and smelled of the sea and sand and a thousand possibilities._

_ She opened her eyes and looked at her companion. He was watching her, a deceptively lazy half-smile on his own lips. His eyes, though, were intense, dark and steady, still sparkling with mischief and something more. She could not pull her own gaze away as he moved nearer, slowly, keeping her eyes locked with his. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, and as she felt the first brush of his lips on hers, she closed her eyes, sighing softly as his hand released hers and slipped around her waist to pull her closer. She let her hands slide over his arms and the broad expanse of his shoulders, at last tangling her fingers in his thick brown hair with a sigh of pleasure._

_ He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan and pulled her still closer, his lips moving hungrily over hers, leaving fire wherever they touched. She was lost in the sensation, aware only of his strong hands moving over her back to tangle themselves in her hair, the beautiful, urgent pressure of his lips, the sound of his breath and the scent of his skin. But it could last for only a moment._

_ It was her lover who first heard the sound of hoof beats on the hard ground. He pulled away from the kiss, quickly if somewhat reluctantly, and looked toward the sound. They were still hidden the small niche, but would not remain so for long. He looked at her, and an understanding passed between them. He took her hand once more, gripping it tightly, then leaned forward and ventured another sweet kiss before rising to the balls of his feet in preparation. She did the same, and in an instant they had dashed out of the rock, running along a thin ridge of stone toward the edge of the wall of boulders and the freedom of the sea._

_ A shout rose up from below them, a guttural howl filled with rage and the promise of revenge._

_"There they are!"_

_ They were flying along the rocks now, barely aware of the sound of men dismounting and the clumsy ringing of armor as their pursuers tried to follow them up the steep stairway of rock. The sea wind sang in their ears, and she could see the endless green of the sea stretching away below them, to the horizon and beyond._

_ An arrow whistled past her ear, and another, and still they ran, heedless of the sharp rocks at their feet and the angry cries of the men at their backs. All at once her lover stopped with a harsh cry, throwing his free arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. She looked at her companion in confusion, then back at the men still struggling to gain the first stone step, then at the sheer drop-off that had suddenly appeared before them. _

_ She let out a small shriek of terror as she watched a few loose rocks fall from the edge of the overhang and bounce along the cliff face toward the sea. Her lover held her close, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand and whispering into her ear._

_"Shh… It's all right, love… It will be all right…." He looked over his shoulder at their pursuers, then at the sea, then followed her gaze down the cliff and out to the open sea. His brow furrowed thoughtfully, but soon a slow smile spread over his features, and he pulled away from her slightly, looking down into her eyes._

_ "Do you trust me?"_

_She looked back at the men following them. They had reached the top of the first step and were now struggling to climb the second. She looked back into her lover's eyes and nodded, her voice breathless._

_ "Yes."_

_His smile widened, and he raised her hand to lips, placing a burning kiss on her palm. "Good. Then follow me."_

_She looked around her in confusion. The men pursuing them had reached the second stair and were reaching for the third. There was no safety in that direction, and she and her lover stood on a narrow ledge of rock with a sheer drop on three sides. There could be no escape. "Follow you? But where…?"_

_ "We're going to jump."_

_Her eyes flew back to his. "Jump?"_

_He looked over his shoulder at their pursuers, then back at her, a smile lingering on his lips and reassurance in his eyes. "Love, do you trust me?"_

_She hesitated for only a moment, venturing another furtive glance toward the men following them, then looked back at her lover and nodded. _

_ "Yes."_

_He took a step toward the edge and she followed, taking a few deep breaths as she looked down at the dark green of the sea. He gripped her hand tightly and looked at her, taking a steadying breath himself._

_ "Are you ready?"_

_She took another deep breath, barely aware of the gulls crying overhead and the steady crash of the waves. She nodded slightly, but as he moved forward toward the edge, she pulled back suddenly on his hand, and he turned to face her, his eyes dark with concern._

_ "Oliver…?" She began, raising her eyes to his. He said nothing in reply, only waited for her to continue. She took a deep breath._

_ "I love you."_

_The smile spread once more over his face, lighting up his deep brown eyes. "I love you too, Katie."_

_They gazed at each other for a moment longer, looking away only to glance behind them as the armored men started making their way across the narrow ledge. There was little time._

_His fingers tightened around hers again, and she looked up into his face. After a moment, his eyes returned to hers, he nodded faintly, and she knew it was time. She took a deep breath, looked back at the vast expanse of the sea, and jumped._

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simply have a severe case of novel envy.


	2. Chapter 1: In Our Dreams

**New Dreams for Old**

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**Chapter 1  
In Our Dreams**

Y_et it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top. _

_ -Virgina Woolf_

  


Katie Bell woke with a start. Her heart was pounding frantically against her ribs, and as the sound of the sea began to fade with the dream, she could hear her own breath, heavy and trembling slightly. Her hands shook as she ran them through her tousled curls, then over the back of her neck. She let them linger there for a moment as she took a first cursory glance at her surroundings. 

She was in her own bed. The bed sheets and blankets lay around her in disarray, and one of her pillows had been flung to the foot of the bed and stuffed into the narrow crack between the mattress and footboard. She reached down rather mechanically and grasped the corner of the pillow, then pulled it back and folded it into her arms as she looked around again. She was safe, and at home. 

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. _5:52. _The light outside was just beginning to gain the rosy softness of sunrise. The window was still partially open, and the sheer white curtains were fluttering softly in a gentle morning breeze. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then lay back against the remaining pillows and pulled the one in her arms more tightly to her chest. She toyed with the fabric at one corner, pulling and twisting it in her fingers as her mind drifted back to the dream. 

The faintest hint of a smile pulled at her lips. It hadn't been a terrible dream, overall. There _was_ the fact that they had apparently been running for their lives, and although she wasn't particularly afraid of heights, the idea of jumping off of a cliff into the sea was more than a little unnerving. But he had been there, pulling her by the hand, lifting her when she fell, laughing and smiling and holding her close, whispering to her in that husky Scottish brogue that sent shivers over her skin. _I love you too, Katie…._ And the kiss… Oh, Merlin, the kiss…. 

Her fingers stopped toying with the corner of the pillow, and the smile faded from her lips as a vague recognition began to prick at the corners of her thoughts. The dark eyes, the boyish smile, the brogue…. The face from her dream came clearly into focus. The eyes were unmistakable, even under the thick chestnut curls. And the grin…. Katie groaned miserably and threw the pillow over her face, clutching it with both hands. 

_ Oliver._

She let out a muffled scream and pulled the pillow more tightly against her face. It was the third time that she had dreamt about Oliver in as many days. It was silly, really. She hadn't heard from him in almost a year and a half, and it had been longer than that since she had actually _seen_ him. She had almost convinced herself that she had forgotten all about him. 

Almost. 

Katie sighed and relaxed her arms, but left the pillow where it was. She supposed she could blame her recent dreams on the article in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days earlier about Puddlemere's match against the Ballycastle Bats, in which young reserve Keeper Oliver Wood had managed a "series of truly spectacular saves after veteran Keeper Andrew Radcliffe was sent to the infirmary nearly an hour into the match. Radcliffe had suffered what healers are calling a 'serious concussion' during a rather nasty stooging incident involving Radcliffe and the three Ballycastle chasers. He is listed in stable condition at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and the chasers involved have been suspended from play for no less than three…." 

With her face still completely covered by her pillow, Katie reached for the newspaper that still lay on her bedside table. She groped blindly until she felt it under her fingers, and then pulled it sharply from the table, ignoring the heavier thump as some other object fell to the floor and landed somewhere under the bed. She took a deep breath and threw off the pillow with her free hand, leaned over to turn on the small lamp and finally pulled the newspaper to her face. It was still folded open to the sports pages. 

At the top of the page, directly under the headline "Wood Does Good After Radcliffe Rammed," was a large photograph of Puddlemere Keeper Andrew Radcliffe being taken from the pitch on a white stretcher, surrounded by reporters, mediwitches and the few eager fans that had managed to make their way down from the closest bleachers. Smaller than the first photograph, and further down into the article, there was a black and white picture of "Puddlemere United reserve Keeper Oliver Wood" zipping back and forth in front of the Puddlemere goal hoops, his robes flying wildly behind him and what could only be described as an ecstatic grin on his face. 

But that wasn't the picture she had been looking for. It was another small picture, black and white again, under a much smaller headline reading, "Saving the Day the Oliver Way." It was a very brief article describing Oliver's performance in the match against Ballycastle, in which he had made seven "truly inspired" saves before Geoffrey Dane, the Seeker for Puddlemere, caught the Golden Snitch and ended the game with a score of 260-210 in favor of Puddlemere United. 

In the photograph, Oliver Wood was flying back and forth between the three goal hoops, his dark eyes intense as he watched the opposing team fly toward the goal. A chaser neared the hoop, paused, threw the quaffle. Oliver did a short dive, spun on his broom, and knocked the quaffle easily away, tossing his hair from his eyes in an impatient gesture. His hair was a bit longer than it had been during his years at Hogwarts, and had taken on a slight curl as it neared the collar of his Quidditch robes. Katie felt a smile pull at her lips. She rather liked it, actually, though she would never admit that to anyone. _Particularly_ Oliver. 

As she watched, the tiny Oliver flew back into position, looked toward the camera (and consequently at Katie), flashed a rather lopsided smile and winked. 

Katie groaned in frustration and smacked the newspaper against the sheets, then lifted it again and returned her attention to the small picture of Wood. The sequence had begun again, and she watched with a sigh as he made the save, returned to his place in front of the hoops, smiled, and winked again. 

"Oh, stop it." She muttered, sitting up against her pillows. "Just stop." The little Keeper smiled and winked again, then reappeared in front of the goal hoops, ready to make the save for the fourth time. Katie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the tiny figure move over the page. "I'm over you. You _do_ realize that." 

The photographic Oliver winked again. 

"I _am_!" 

There must have been a glitch in the photographic process, because Katie could have _ sworn_ that the image of Oliver winked again. 

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Oliver Wood! You always _were_ an insufferable… cocky… arrogant… _prat!"_

Katie growled and sat up, throwing the newspaper back onto the bedside table. It hit the side of the table and fell back on the bed just in time for Katie to see the same spectacular save by "Puddlemere Reserve Keeper Oliver Wood" that she had _ already_ seen several times. She picked the paper up and threw it again. Again, it bounced off the side of the table and landed on the bed. With a muttered curse, Katie picked up the paper for the third time and threw it as hard as she could at the bedside table. The paper landed on the opposite edge of the table, hovered there for a moment, then fell to the floor with a rustle of paper. 

Katie sighed, watching the paper disappear off of the table. Then she sat motionless for several minutes, watching the _spot_ where the paper had disappeared. She considered getting out of bed to pick it up and replace it beside the clock, but she made no move to do so. She was tired, her blankets were warm, and she was suddenly very… _very_ depressed. At last she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, falling back onto the pillows and throwing one arm up over her face. 

When she pulled her arm away several moments later, the light in her bedroom had grown brighter, and the gentle morning breeze that had been rustling her curtains had died, leaving them to hang limply in front of the still-open window. She could hear the song of a bird in the tree outside her window, could just make out the sound of voices in the street below. One didn't usually hear people on the street this early in the morning. Katie closed her eyes, waited for a moment and then forced them open again. 

The lamp on the bedside table was still on, throwing a weak light onto her face that was completely lost in the brilliant sunshine. She groaned softly and rolled onto her side, reaching out to pull the small chain that would turn off the light. As she did so, her eyes glanced quickly at the small clock before returning to the lamp. Her hand stopped just short of the pull chain, and her eyes flew _ back_ to the clock, widening slightly. 

_ 9:43 _

And in smaller letters beneath the time:

_ You're late, Katherine Bell!_

With a cry somewhere between a gasp and a shriek, Katie threw off the blankets and jumped out of bed. Or rather, _tried _to jump out of bed. Her feet caught the pile of blankets and pillows at the foot of the bed and were tangled within seconds. The jump turned into more of a stumble, and Katie fell shoulder-first to the floor with a thud and a muffled curse. 

She lay on the floor for a moment, catching her breath when she saw something peeking out from under the bed. That must have been what she heard earlier. She watched it curiously for a long moment, then turned slightly, reaching over herself with grunt and a wince to pull the object out of its hiding place. 

It was a book, a paperback novel with tattered corners and the words "Pauline and the Pirate of Passion" printed on the cover in garish silver lettering. Under the title, a slender woman with flowing blond curls was being held in what Katie thought looked like a highly uncomfortable position by a handsome, long-haired man whose shirt had been thrown open to reveal an impressive expanse of tanned, well-defined chest and a set of abdominal muscles that looked as though they had been chiseled in stone. 

Katie let her head fall back with a sigh and looked at the Passionate Pirate and his golden-haired paramour. They sat… lay? on a stony cliff with a turbulent sea in the background, a single old-fashioned ship appearing as little more than a speck on the horizon. 

"Well, I guess that explains the pirate thing…." Katie mused under her breath, reaching up to slide the book onto the bedside table. She made a mental note to return the book to Alicia Spinnet as soon as possible, and, more importantly, to avoid any further literary suggestions from her friend. 

She meant well, Katie knew, but Alicia had a tendency toward romantic melodrama, and her paperback novel collection was certainly no exception. Besides _Pirate of Passion_, Alicia had also lent to Katie _The Wandering Wizard_ (An equally well-muscled and poorly-dressed man standing at the pinnacle of an ancient tower as a buxom brunette knelt in awe at his feet), _Debutante of Destiny_ (This time it was the scantily-clad man who reclined at a voluptuous redhead's feet, staring up at her in mute adoration), and _Captain Ignacio and the Mysterious Island of the Amazon Viper Women_ (That one was just… well, it had just been silly). 

Katie laughed in spite of herself as she thought of Pauline's pirate and the dream that had woken her earlier. It could be worse, she supposed. Oliver _could_ have appeared as the dashing Captain Ignacio, trapped in a crude cage of bamboo while she danced around him wearing a revealing two-piece bathing suit fashioned from what Katie could only _ assume_ was a leopard's skin. As it was, running through the forest with the roguish Captain Wood had been… Well, not _fun,_ exactly, as they _had_ been running for their lives, but it had been exciting. Romantic. Perfect. 

And the kiss…. 

Katie groaned miserably as that line of thought began again, and she tried to push it from her mind as she pushed herself away from the floor. The clock now read 9_:58._ In two minutes, she would be officially late for work. 

Katie shrugged her injured shoulder gingerly, whispering another curse under her breath as a jolt of pain raced down her arm. She would have to see to that later. There would be a bruise, maybe a pulled muscle. She shrugged her shoulder again, making a grim face as the pain shot down her arm again. A pulled muscle was a _definite_ possibility. She remembered seeing a charm in one of her Mediwitchcraft textbooks that might be useful. _Musculata Numen…?_ Yes, that was it. 

She fumbled around on the nightstand until she found her wand, then waved it awkwardly over her shoulder and repeated the incantation. It took only a moment for the pain in her arm to fade into an almost imperceptible ache, and a faint smile flitted across Katie's face. The shoulder was still a bit stiff, but it would certainly do until Katie had more time to look into possible remedies. 

Katie dropped her wand back onto the bedside table and turned toward the bathroom, collecting her dressing gown from where it lay draped over a battered chair. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, rubbed her hands over her face once, and started for the bathroom. 

At that moment, there was a muffled roar from the other side of the bedroom door. Katie stopped and turned, a faint frown on her lips. She looked down. A faint green light was shimmering under the door, and it was only a moment later that a familiar voice was calling into the empty living room. 

"Katie? Hey, Katie, are you there?" 

Katie let out a sigh of relief and the frown changed quickly into a tired smile. She opened the door and peered around the edge of the doorframe toward the tiny fireplace tucked away in the corner of a living room that, in truth, was not a great deal larger than the fireplace. Hovering in a flickering cloud of green flame, the familiar face of Angelina Johnson was looking quickly around the living room, a faint frown creasing her forehead. 

"Hey, Katie, I…" Her voice trailed off as her dark eyes met Katie's, and Angelina broke out into a grin. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, girl! Where on _Earth_ have you been?" 

Katie stepped into the living room, yawning and laughing all at once as she ran a hand through her tangle of honey-colored curls. "'Morning, Angie." 

Angelina let out a snort and did a fairly passable imitation of Katie's voice. "''Morning, Angie…'" She chuckled quietly and shook her head. "So what's up? Mr. Pendlesmythe said you hadn't come in yet. Everything all right?" 

Katie nodded, flopping down onto a worn sofa near the fireplace. "Yeah. I just had a rough night, that's all." She let out a sighing laugh and shook her head, wondering how much she should tell her friend. She hadn't told Angelina or Alicia about the other dreams. She hadn't told _anyone_ about the other dreams. Still, she looked at the fireplace with a wry smile, and almost before she knew it, she said, "I had the oddest dream." 

Angelina raised a single dark eyebrow. "Oh, _do_ tell…." 

Katie laughed a little self-consciously, laying her head against the back of the sofa. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as images from her dream danced at the corners of her thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, then let them drift more fully into her mind. It was still so clear, so vivid. The feeling of the dry leaves under her feet, the crisp smell of the sea air, the sun on her face. The feeling of his fingers curling around hers, his breath on her hair, his whispers…." 

"Katie?" 

Katie started violently as Angelina's voice broke into her thoughts. Katie opened her eyes and sat up quickly, running both hands through her hair at once. She blinked slowly, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and looked back toward the fireplace. Angelina's face still hovered in the flames, a mischievous smirk pulling at her lips. 

"Must have been _some_ dream…." 

Katie laughed as she felt a faint flush creep up her neck. "Not bad, really. Running through the forest, jumping off of cliffs, dashing pirate captain… You know, standard damsel-in-distress stuff." 

Angelina snickered loudly. "You've been reading one of Al's books again, haven't you?" 

Katie grinned and batted her eyelashes at her friend. "_Pauline and the Passionate Pirate_." 

"_Pirate of Passion_." 

Katie laughed and settled back against the sofa. "That's right. That's the one." 

Angelina shook her head with a wry grin. "Yeah, she made me read that one. Not bad, actually, compared to some of the others. At least there were no Amazon Viper Women. I'm telling you, Katie, that girl needs to settle down. She's dangerous." 

Katie laughed softly and lay her head back on the sofa. They sat for a moment in comfortable silence before Angelina spoke again. 

"So, this 'dashing pirate captain…' Anyone I know?" 

Katie's smile faltered slightly and she opened her eyes, lifting her head just enough to meet Angelina's gaze. Angelina raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry, and Katie let out a long breath. She laid her head back on the sofa. The sunlight through the curtains was throwing dancing patterns of light on the ceiling, and Katie watched them for a long moment, grateful for the distraction. It was no good. Oliver's face kept drifting in and out of her thoughts, and every time she tried to push it away, a small photographic Oliver winked at her with a sly grin. 

"No one I want to talk about." 

Angelina nodded slowly, understanding and a faint hint of concern creeping into her eyes. Katie and Angelina sat in silence for several minutes. Then the concern disappeared almost as quickly as it came, and Angelina broke out in another grin. "So, anyway… I'm meeting Al today for lunch. Want to come along?" 

Katie lifted her head again, blinking her eyes slowly to clear away the stubborn sleepiness. "Umm… Yeah, all right." She looked back at Angelina. "What time?" 

"12:30-ish. We can come and collect you, if you'd like. You're working today, aren't you?" 

Katie nodded, stifling another yawn with a small hand. "Mm-hmm." She dropped her hand and stood up with a sigh, rolling her stiff shoulder as she glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was well after 10:00, and she had yet to shower and dress. 

"Bugger. I'd better get going, actually. See you at lunch?" 

Angelina nodded. "Yeah, I've got to go, myself. I told Fred I'd help out at the shop today, and I'm already late." 

Katie smirked. "I'm sure he'll forgive you." 

Angelina made a face, but the fondness in her eyes was unmistakable. "He'd better. Anyway, I'll see you later." She gave Katie a final grin and then disappeared. 

The green flames vanished a moment later, and Katie stood alone in the living room, with only the persistent memory of Oliver's laughing eyes to keep her company. She frowned and rubbed her hands over her face again. He had been gone for well over a year, and she had moved on with her life. She had a job, a flat of her own, and a promising career ahead of her when she finished her mediwitch training. Why was it so difficult to push away the memories _now_? 

Katie's eyes drifted to a small photograph on the mantel. It was a black-and-white photograph in a simple frame, taken just after Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup four years ago. In the picture, Angelina and Alicia were standing off to one side, looking up with silent laughter at a young Harry Potter, who looked decidedly uncomfortable oh his precarious perch atop the shoulders of the Weasley twins. They laughed and jostled him with identical mischievous grins while Katie stood on the other side, holding onto her broom with both hands and smiling somewhat bashfully at the camera. At _her_ side stood Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood, a triumphant, rather boyish grin plastered on his face. He held his broom in one hand, and the other arm was thrown around Katie's shoulders. Every now and then he would pull her a bit closer in a little, strange sort of hug, and her smile would widen for just a moment before returning to its shy softness. 

A hint of a smile pulled at Katie's lips. Life had been so simple then. 

She sighed softly, then looked toward the window. She had left it open during the night as well, and the breeze that had disappeared earlier was back, lifting the curtains in a lazy sort of dance. It was almost hypnotic. Katie watched it for a little while, then walked over to the window with a sigh. She closed the sash, ran her fingers through her hair once more and headed for the bathroom. A shower, a _very_ large cup of tea, and everything would look better. She hoped. 

It was going to be a long day.

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**A/N:** I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story already. I certainly was not expecting _that_ sort of response in the first 24 hours! ^_^ Thank you _all_ so much, and Tamira, I hope this chapter clears things up for you. ^_^

Updates will not usually be this quick. I have had the Prologue and most of Chapter 1 ready for quite some time, and I wanted to post them close together so that there wouldn't be too much confusion regarding what was happening the Prologue. I will try to do further updates as quickly as I can, but life can be a little hectic at times! ^_^

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simply have a severe case of novel envy.


	3. Chapter 2: On Books

**New Dreams for Old**

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**Chapter 2  
On Books**

_The books we think we ought to read are poky, dull, and dry;  
The books that we would like to read we are ashamed to buy;  
The books that people talk about we never can recall;  
And the books that people give us, oh, they're the worst of all._

_ -Carolyn Wells, "On Books"_  


"Hag… Hellhound… Hinkypunk… 

Katie murmured each name under her breath as she made her way down the stack of books, running her fingers over each smooth leather spine as she did so. The name of each creature was neatly printed in gold lettering under each grouping of books, in alphabetical order, for which Katie was extremely grateful. The book she was looking for would have been nearly impossible to find otherwise. 

"Hippocampus… Hippogriff… Ah, here it is." 

Katie pulled a book from a shelf near the floor. She blew the dust from the cover, which was a rather nauseating shade of pink, and turned to smile at the harried-looking witch peering over her shoulder. "Is this what you're looking for?" 

Katie held out the book, and the witch took it in her hands, reading aloud the faded gold lettering on the spine. "_Horklumps and Hedges: Practical Plans for Prettier Posies." _

The witch looked up with a grateful smile. "That's the one. I was beginning to think that I'd never find it, and my garden is just full of the little buggers." 

Katie stood and brushed the dust off of her robes. "I beg your pardon, madam, but… Have you tried gnomes? My mum had a problem with Horklumps a few years ago, and she set a few gnomes loose in the garden. The Horklumps disappeared rather quickly after that." 

The witch nodded miserably. "I've been trying to tell my husband the same thing, but he won't hear of it. Grows prize-winning cabbages, you see, and he's lost too many young cabbages to gnomes over the years. I tried to tell him, but he put traps in all of the gnomeholes in our garden this past summer. Now the gnomes stay away, but the Horklumps…." She shook her head sadly. "My poor roses…."

Katie smiled. "Well, maybe you can find something in that book that will help you. Shall I ring it up for you, then?" 

The witch nodded and followed Katie to the ancient wooden counter near the back of the store. She placed the vibrantly pink book on the counter and started rummaging through her battered purse, muttering to herself. "One… two… oh, no… two, three, four… no, three…." 

Katie watched the woman out of the corner of her eye as she pushed a few buttons on the ancient cash register. The enchanted tag rose with a click and the muffled ring of a bell. _Four galleons, seven, please._

Katie bit her lip and watched as the witch pulled three galleons out of her purse, placing them on the worn wooden counter with a sigh. Then she went back into her purse, counting slowly. "Two, three, four…." That must have been all that she had, because she put four silver sickles down next to the galleons and looked up at Katie with a hopeful expression. 

Katie quickly pushed another button on the cash register and the enchanted tag clicked back down before the witch had a chance to see. Then she smiled and looked over the counter. 

"Two galleons, nineteen." 

The witch's eyebrows rose slightly. "Two galleons, nineteen? Are you sure? That doesn't seem like very much."

"Quite sure, madam." 

The witch let out an audible sigh of relief, and a brilliant smile appeared on her weathered features. "I…." She stared at the coins on the counter thoughtfully for a moment, then looked back up at Katie. "Could I also have the latest copy of _Witch Weekly_, please? I think I may just have enough." 

Katie smiled and stretched toward a rack of newspapers and magazines on the other side of the counter. "There's a feature article on the World Cup next week. Bulgaria's favored to win, of course, but I think England stands a good chance." 

The witch laughed. "I can tell my husband I bought the magazine for him, then. He's mad about Quidditch, absolutely manic. Played at school before we were married." 

She smiled fondly. "Quite a sight in his uniform, he was. Tall, dark-eyed and… well, he had all of his hair then, you know. Quite reminds me of that young Puddlemere Keeper. Not that Radcliffe fellow, you know… the other one. What's his name?" 

Katie's smile faltered slightly, but she kept her eyes on the register. "Wood, madam." 

The witch looked up, grinning. "That's it! Wood!" She nodded her head appreciatively. "Such a nice-looking fellow, don't you think? And quite talented. He had a wonderful match against Ballycastle about a week back…." 

Katie nodded without speaking. She did not entirely trust her voice at the moment. 

The witch's face colored and she grinned a little self-consciously. "Not that I follow Puddlemere, you understand. My husband is strictly a Tuthill man." 

A faint smile returned to Katie's lips as she took the coins off of the counter and put them in the drawer. She punched a few of the buttons, punched a few more, then retrieved some coins out of the drawer and offered them to the woman. 

"Fifteen sickles, madam." 

The witch took them with a grateful smile and carefully placed them back in the battered purse. "Thank you so much, miss. You've been a wonderful help." 

Katie nodded faintly as she shut the drawer to the till. "Not at all, madam. And good luck with your cabbages." 

The witch gave a little snort something like a laugh as she took her purchases from the counter. "I'm only waiting until they're large enough to make a decent roll, and then my husband will find a few missing. Let him blame it on the gnomes, if he wants to, they've all gone. He can't hurt what isn't there, bless him." She winked at Katie and turned toward the door. 

Katie kept the smile on her lips long enough to watch the woman disappear out the door into Diagon Alley. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had almost pushed away all thoughts of last night's dream, and now the images came rushing back with a vengeance. Stupid Oliver…. Everywhere she went, everything she saw… It was getting ridiculous. She was over him. He had hurt her, and she was over him. It was as simple as that. She frowned slightly, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and looked around. 

Flourish and Blott's Bookstore was all but deserted. Quiet, smelling of dust and parchment and that faintly electrical scent of residual magic. In a shadowy corner, a wiry, dark-haired man sat poring over a thick leather-bound volume of potions lore. Though he was not Professor Snape, and in reality bore little resemblance to Katie's former Potions professor, the scene brought back unexpected memories of a dark dungeon classroom and simmering cauldrons full of malodorous ingredients Katie would rather not think about. 

On a frail-looking ladder, an even frailer-looking witch stood on tiptoe, muttering to herself as she looked over various volumes on Arithmancy. Her spectacles were almost gray with dust, and her hair was very much the same color, though whether it took its shade from the dust on the shelves or the passage of time, Katie couldn't say. 

Other than those two unlikely patrons, the manager, and herself, the bookstore was completely empty. The summer holidays were nearing their end, but there were a few weeks left before the beginning of the school term. The rush for Hogwarts textbooks had not yet begun, and things had always been slow in the morning. Katie leaned forward on the counter, crossed her arms on the worn surface, and looked out the large storefront windows. 

Outside the bookstore, Diagon Alley was quite a bit busier than the small bookstore. Witches and wizards rushed by the window on their way further down the alley. The older witches and wizards generally made their way through the streets in ones and twos, but the younger wizardfolk were traveling in packs, and generally in one direction. 

Katie smiled as a particularly raucous group of children ran by the window, pulling each other by the hand and shouting through their laughter. She knew instinctively where they were headed. Quality Quidditch Supplies was no more than two doors down the lane, and Quidditch World Cup fever was in full swing.

The Bulgarian team was the clear favorite to win, as it had been for the past two years, thanks to the continued presence of Seeker Viktor Krum. However, several of the other teams had been having tremendously successful seasons, and no one Katie knew had (as of yet) been brave enough to make any wagers on the outcome. Of course, the unspoken consensus among her friends and _their_ friends and indeed, everyone that Katie had spoken to or overheard, was that it was England's year. It had been almost ten years since an English victory at the Quidditch World Cup, and everyone (in England, anyway) agreed that they were certainly due. 

Now if only someone would tell that to the English team. 

The English Quidditch team had been plagued for the past few months by a rash of bad press and a seemingly constant shifting of players and positions. First Brian Hardinger, one of the first-line Beaters for the team, had resigned, citing "irreconcilable differences" with management and several of the other players. (There _were_ whispers of an "irreconcilable" drinking problem, but those rumors had never been either confirmed or denied by anyone associated with the British and Irish Quidditch League.) 

A few weeks after that, the star Keeper of the team, Roderick Devonshire, had been pulled from the roster, the result of injuries sustained during an exhibition match against Yugoslavia. Apparently, the Yugoslavian Beaters were very… _enthusiastic_, and Devonshire had been struck simultaneously by both Bludgers in an area of his body where any contact with a Quaffle would now be extremely painful. After all, a Keeper is all but worthless without the use of his… hands. 

The most recent change in the English Quidditch team had been the resignation of the reserve Keeper, Michael Rayne. There had been no mention in the press of the reason for Rayne's disappearance from the roster, but again, the rumor mill had been running rampant. There were whispers about everything from illicit affairs with members of the governing organization to massive conspiracies on the part of the British and Irish Quidditch League, the International Association of Quidditch, and the teams from Spain, America, and particularly Albania, which had a very small team but a very loud manager. Regardless of the reason, the English Quidditch team was now without a Keeper, and time was quickly running out. 

Katie looked at her watch. A present from Fred and George Weasley, she had no idea what had inspired her to keep the silly thing. On the surface, it was nothing more than an ordinary timepiece, but it had one rather irritating difference. Katie groaned as she looked at the blank face of the watch. When she looked directly at the face of the watch, the numbers disappeared, leaving only a faintly shimmering disk of… nothing. She had to look past the watch, to the side, anywhere else, and only then would the numbers appear in a clear black script. Katie sighed and held the watch in front of her face, looking past it toward the front window. _12:17._

It was _precisely_ at 12:17 that her stomach chose to growl rather loudly, and in his shadowy corner, the dark-haired man looked up with a scowl. Katie flashed him her most ingratiating smile and idly wished that she had eaten more than half a piece of toast and a cold cup of tea on her way out the door that morning. Well, half a piece of toast, a cold cup of tea, and piece of chewing gum she had found in the pocket of her robes. She sighed and straightened her shoulders, then turned and walked toward a door in the back of the store. 

The sounds of rustling paper and muffled curses were easy to follow, and it didn't take Katie long to find the manager of Flourish and Blott's all but buried in a pile of thick leather-bound books and mountains of paperwork. He was currently scribbling furiously on a wrinkled piece of parchment and counting under his breath. "Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…."

Katie knocked softly on the doorframe. "Umm… Mr. Pendlesmythe?" 

Reginald Q. Pendlesmythe III let out a sharp yelp and promptly dropped his quill into a particularly nasty-looking pile of papers. He dove after it, but finding nothing but an armful of parchment, he sat up again with a wistful sigh. He looked around for a moment in confusion, then glanced up at Katie. He blinked at her, then again, then furrowed his brow into a mass of wrinkles and twisted his mouth into a sort of frustrated smirk. 

"Bugger, now I've lost count…." 

He started searching again for the lost quill, twisting this way and that and sending papers flying in a cloud around him. Katie took a quick step into the room, shooting out a practiced hand and snatching a series of passing invoices out of the air. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pendlesmythe, but I was only going to ask…." 

"Ruddy quill… Paid nine sickles for that blasted thing last week, and it's useless, absolutely useless! 'Returning Quill,' my foot! Ruddy thing couldn't return if I fastened a rubber string on the end and…." 

Katie cleared her throat, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Would… you be referring to the quill behind your ear, sir?" 

Mr. Pendlesmythe sat up quickly. He ran one hand over his head and past his ear. When that hand found nothing, he repeated the process on the other side of his head, and let out a shout of triumph as his fingers curled around a dark green quill hidden under a mess of graying hair. 

"That's it!" A broad grin broke out on his features as he pulled out his prize. "Always _knew_ I'd find the blasted thing! Old Alexander's never steered me wrong, no sir! Best quills this side of London, I've always said…." 

Katie laughed under her breath and held out the captured invoices to the manager. "Of course you have, sir." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe barked out a laugh and stood up, parchments fluttering around him like feathers. "Well, perhaps not _always_." He brushed off his robes and looked inquiringly at Katie, taking the papers from her hand. "Now, Miss Bell, what can I do for you?" 

Katie plucked another paper out of the air and added it to the pile in Mr. Pendlesmythe's hands. "Well, I was actually hoping I might pop out for a bit of lunch, if it's not too…."

Mr. Pendlesmythe quickly waved a thin hand around, cutting her off. "Yes, yes… Lunch. Must be hours past noon. Go and get something, and quickly. Lots to do, lots to do. Hogwarts textbooks just came in. Huge lot. Some nasty buggers, too." 

Katie looked at the enormous pile of books in the center of the room. The majority of the books looked like the standard, leather-bound textbooks she had used for seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but there were a few books, in fact an entire pile off to the side that seemed to be shifting in and out of focus and changing color every few minutes. Mr. Pendlesmythe followed Katie's gaze and made a strange little snorting noise. 

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm quite beginning to dislike that class. Not as much as Care of Magical Creatures, of course. That Professor Hagrid has strange tastes in literature, I can tell you that." 

Katie laughed in spite of herself. "If you'd like me to stay…." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe made the same birdlike motion with his hand and shook his head. "No, no. Go and get something to eat. Books'll still be here when you get back." He glanced toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks and sighed loudly. "I hope." 

Katie was turning to go when the manager spoke again. 

"Oh, Miss Bell, there _is_ one thing…." 

Katie looked over her shoulder at Mr. Pendlesmythe, raising both eyebrows in silent inquiry. He took a step toward her, tucking the quill once more behind his ear and narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. 

"That last sale you made. Nervous little thing. Bought a copy of… _Horklumps and Hedges_, was it?" 

Katie turned to face him. "Yes, sir." 

He nodded slowly, pursing his thin lips. "What price did the register give on that particular volume?" 

Katie's heart sank. She paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, "Four… and seven, I believe, sir.

Mr. Pendlesmythe nodded again, even more slowly. "And you quoted the price as…?" 

Katie's heart sank further. 

"Miss Bell…? 

Katie took another deep breath and looked toward the far corner. "Two… and nineteen, sir." 

The manager made a little "hmph"ing noise. He paused for a moment, then took another step toward Katie, folding his hands behind his back. "I see. And you thought that appropriate, did you?" 

"Mr. Pendlesmythe, I…." 

He held up a hand for silence. "Miss Bell, I have been trying to get rid of that book for nearly three years. Ruddy nuisance, and ugly as Satan's cat. Can't imagine why the poor woman wanted it, anyway. Probably not worth more than a handful of sickles, especially after Scamander's book came out a few years back…." 

Katie blinked in surprise, then let out an enormous sigh of relief as Mr. Pendlesmythe began to pace in front of her, waving his hands around and going on about books and newts and sickles and why would anyone dye leather that horrid color, anyway? 

"All she needs to do is find herself a few gnomes, and…." 

Katie cleared her throat softly. "Umm… She can't use gnomes, sir." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe stopped in his tracks and turned look at her, a bewildered look on his face. 

"Can't use gnomes? Ridiculous. Why on Earth not?" 

"Cabbages, sir." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe blinked and shook his head slowly, wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "Cabbages…." 

Katie nodded seriously, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir. Cabbages." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe blinked again, then shook his head and gave a short laugh. "If you say so, Miss Bell. But back to the matter at hand. Though I believe your heart was in the right place, I must _insist_ that in the future you ask me before altering prices on any item found in our fine establishment." 

Katie nodded quickly. "Of course, sir…." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe gave another little snort, cutting her off again. "I wouldn't have asked for more than an even two galleons. One, maybe. Probably would have even _paid_ her to cart the ruddy thing away. Is she interested in Fungometry, do you think?" 

Katie smiled and shook her head. "I… didn't think to ask, sir." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe shook his head sadly. "A pity, that. Now there's one or two volumes I should like to see disappear…." He looked at Katie as if seeing her for the first time and raised one bushy eyebrow. "Weren't you going to lunch, Miss Bell?" 

Katie nodded, forcing the smile from her lips. "Yes, sir. Thank you." 

The manager nodded brusquely and pulled his quill out from behind his ear. "Very good." He looked down at the invoices in his hands, then sighed and shook his head miserably. "_Not_ so good. Not so very good, indeed…." 

Katie stopped in the doorway. "I'll not be long, sir." 

Mr. Pendlesmythe only waved a thin hand and grunted in reply. He had already gone back to his pile of books and papers, and was scribbling furiously away at the same wrinkled piece of parchment he had been attacking earlier. 

"Forty-four, forty-five, forty-six…." 

Angelina had been as good as her word, and when Katie walked out of the back room, Angelina and Alicia had come in the front, and Alicia was closing the door to the street behind them. Angelina caught Katie's eye and waved. 

Katie waved back. She looked around the bookstore quickly. The dark-haired man had disappeared, and the frail-looking witch was still on the ladder in the section on Arithmancy. Though by her stature, Katie suspected that she had fallen asleep and was only being held up by the handrails. With any luck, Katie would be back before she woke up and the afternoon customers made their appearance. 

She slipped out of her dark work robes and handed them to an overeager coat rack, which snatched them possessively from her hands. She scowled at the rack. "I'll need those back, you know." The coat rack only clutched the robes more tightly, and Katie shook her head with a faint scowl. "Fine. Keep them, then. They're not your color, anyway." 

There was no further response from the coat rack, and Katie had the strange feeling that if coat racks had tongues, one would be sticking out at her right now. She gave it a final sneering look and turned her back on the offending piece of furniture. 

Angelina had come up to the counter and was watching the whole scene with a look of amused confusion. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not tease the furniture?" 

Katie made a face. "It's _not _furniture. It's some sort of… evil… possessed… coat-stealing… thing." 

Angelina laughed and shook her head. "If you say so, Bell." She leaned forward on the counter. "So are you ready to go, then?" 

Katie nodded and checked the cash register. "Yes, but I should be back before too long. Mr. Pendlesmythe is quite _literally_ up to his ears in Hogwarts textbooks." 

Angelina stood, sighing nostalgically and placing a single dark hand over her heart. "Ah, dear old Hogwarts." She cleared her throat dramatically. 

_ "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_" she sang. 

Katie laughed and placed her own hand over her heart as she began to sing. 

"_Teach us something, please.__  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees…." _

Angelina laughed and picked up the song again. 

"_Our heads could do with filling__  
With some interesting stuff… _Hmm…" 

She looked at Katie. "I can't remember the rest right now, can you?" 

Katie shrugged, smiling. "Something about dead flies and fluff. I remember Oliver snickering at Fred and George through the whole silly thing the year Harry came in." 

Angelina laughed. "I remember. As I recall, he stopped rather abruptly after you gave the back of his head a good hard smack." Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief. "Though he didn't seem to mind too much at the time." 

Katie smirked, but said nothing. She remembered that, too. She pulled her bag out from under the counter and looked around. "I thought Alicia came in with you." 

Angelina made a face and sighed. "She's found the display for the latest Diamante Devereaux novel. _Argentinian Amour_, or some silly thing. We're going to have to pry her away with a tire iron, I'm afraid." 

Katie gave a short laugh and raised an eyebrow. "_Tire iron_?" 

The barest hint of flush appeared in Angelina's cheeks, and Katie laughed under her breath. Angelina had been spending a _great_ deal of time with the Weasleys of late (particularly one of the twins… and it wasn't George), and their influence was certainly beginning to show. 

Katie grinned and stepped out from behind the counter. She threw her bag over her shoulder, linked her arm through Angelina's, and started forward. "Well, my dear, let's go and rescue Alicia from the Amorous Argentinian, shall we?" 

Katie pulled a sniggering Angelina toward the front of the store and the promise of sunshine outside. In the back room, Katie could still hear Mr. Pendlesmythe, cursing and grumbling amid his pile of books and papers. 

"Bugger. I've lost count again…."

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**A/N:** Again, I am absolutely floored by the response to this story! ^_^ Thank you all so much for your encouragement! I'm sorry for the lack of... well, anything actually _happening_ in this chapter, but this was a scene that kind of ran away with me, and there are some things alluded to in this chapter that will become _very_ important later on! ^_^ And next chapter, we will find out exactly what Oliver did to hurt Katie so badly. (And believe me folks, it's a doozy!)

It will probably be a little while until the next update. The Christmas season is always busy around our house, and this year is certainly no exception! ^_^ (That, and the fact that... Well, I haven't actually _written_ Chapter 3 yet!)

I hope you all have a _wonderful_ Holiday Season, and thank you again! ^_^

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**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simple have a severe case of novel envy.


	4. Chapter 3: From My Friends

**New Dreams for Old**

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**Chapter 3  
From My Friends**

_Defend me from my friends; I can defend myself from my enemies._

_-Attributed to Maréchal Villars upon taking leave of Louis XIV  
  
_

  
  
Katie pushed one of her chips over the plate with her fork, then rolled it back with her fork, then pushed it forward again… with her fork. She was only half-listening to what had turned into a rather animated discussion between Angelina and Alicia, and only looked up occasionally, when she heard her name or when she felt the eyes of one (or both) of her friends boring into her thoughts. 

"…She owled me this morning, actually. Ron isn't in on it yet, but she's told Ginny and Percy, and Bill knew already, so…." 

And Charlie?" 

"He's not entirely certain that he's going to be able to get away, but he's sure going to give it a try. He's trying to make it over for the World Cup, anyway, so hopefully it will all work out. But it's not an easy trip, even by Floo. There are about a dozen stops between here and there, and…." 

"Well, couldn't he Apparate?" 

Angelina let out a snorting sort of laugh. "Apparate? From _Romania_?" 

Alicia's voice gained a note of petulance that made Katie smile even through her sluggishness. "Well, he _could_, couldn't he?"

Katie laughed under her breath and looked up from under dark lashes, barely arching her eyebrows as she glanced between her friends. 

Angelina was shaking her head and reaching for her butterbeer. "Not likely." 

"It's been done before, hasn't it?" 

Angelina frowned thoughtfully, letting the bottle hover a few inches from her mouth. Then she shook her head again. "I don't think so." She took a long drink and set her bottle back down. She thought for another moment, shook her head and began tracing her finger over the bottle's paper label. "I don't even think it's possible." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Fairly sure." 

There was a long pause. Katie looked back down at her plate, giving the chip another half-hearted roll across the surface. After a moment, Alicia sat back in her chair, taking a long drink.

"It won't be the same if he's not there." 

"Well, he _said_ he'd try." 

"Right." 

There was an even longer pause. Katie stabbed the chip with her fork, then raised it up to eye level, turning the fork this way and that and staring not quite at the chip, but not quite through it, either. Angelina and Alicia went on. 

"So do you think they suspect?" 

"They're Fred and George. Of _course_ they're suspecting something. They're _always_ suspecting something. I expect it comes of always being suspected of something by others…." 

Katie smiled and made a little snuffling noise, but didn't look up. Angelina and Alicia had been planning Fred and George Weasley's birthday party for weeks. The whole Weasley clan was in on the planning, including Harry Potter, who, although he was technically _not_ a Weasley, was included in everything that _included_ the Weasleys.

Katie yawned and turned her fork around again. The chip had gone cold and soggy some time ago, and she found if she shook the fork ever so slightly in a vertical fashion, the ends of the potato would bob up and down in a most amusing way. 

After a few moments of this, Katie blinked slowly, looking around at nothing in particular. Something had changed. She couldn't say exactly _what_ had changed at first, but after a long moment of drowsy reflection, she realized that the conversation had stopped. Entirely. 

She lifted her eyes. Angelina and Alicia were staring at her with identical expressions of confusion and amusement. Katie looked first at Alicia, then at Angelina, then back at Alicia, raising both eyebrows in an unspoken question. 

Alicia was snickering under her breath. Angelina let out a short laugh and nodded toward Katie's hand. "So… were you planning on eating that?" 

Katie looked back at the fork in her hand. The chip had nearly fallen off, and was clinging tenaciously to one tine with only by a bit of skin and batter. She laughed a little self-consciously, then sat up in her chair and dropped the fork to her plate with a clatter. 

"Sorry." Katie ran both hands through her hair, stifling another yawn. "I guess I'm still a bit knackered. I haven't had much sleep the last few nights, and I think it's beginning to catch up with me." 

Alicia just grinned and shook her head without a word. Angelina sat back in her chair with her bottle of butterbeer and looked at Katie with a decidedly mischievous expression. 

"Yeah, you said something about that this morning. Something about a nightmare, wasn't it? Pirates, or some silly thing." 

Katie threw her friend an exasperated look. "No, not _nightmares_, exactly." She let the image of the dashing Captain Oliver flash _very_ briefly through her thoughts, then she pushed him away and reached for her drink. "Just very… odd dreams." 

Alicia perked up immediately. (Her interest in dreams and the Divination thereof was legendary.) "Hang on… You've been having dreams about pirates?" She grinned and raised both blonde eyebrows. "You finished _Pauline_, didn't you? What did you think? Wasn't it fabulous?" 

Katie groaned through her laughter. "I finished it, yes. After midnight, thank you very much, which is one of the reasons I haven't had much sleep. I have it back at the shop. You can have back it after lunch, if you'd like." 

Alicia waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, after lunch, fine…." She leaned forward with an almost predatory grin. "Now, tell me about these _dreams_…." 

Katie let out a sigh and threw Angelina an accusatory glance. Her friend just shrugged with a smile. 

"Well, I had to get it out of you _somehow_, didn't I? And Alicia doesn't give up as easily as I do." 

Alicia reached over the table and grabbed Katie's arm. "It's true, but… Ignore her. She'll only cloud your mind with disbelief and…" 

"Reality." Angelina laughed. "It's called reality." 

Alicia groaned. "It's _called_ denial. Everyone _knows_ that dreams are a window into the subconscious. If Katie's having dreams that she can't stop thinking about, there's something going on." She turned back to Katie. "Okay, now this dream. It had pirates in it? Oh, that could mean all sorts of things...." 

Katie pulled her arm away and shook her head. "Forget it Al. I'm not getting dragged into another one of your Diviniation… _things._ I don't need an interpretation, a journey through my subconscious, or anything else. It was a dream, it's over, end of story." 

Alicia looked doubtful. Katie yawned again. "I'm just very… _very_ tired." 

Alicia let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. "Oh, all right, then. You're absolutely no fun at all. You _do_ realize that, don't you?" 

Katie looked up. "Oh, now just a minute…." 

Alicia waved her hand again, a smile just tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, no… You don't believe in the wonders of Divination, there's nothing I can do to help you." 

Katie laughed. "Well, that settles it then, doesn't it?" 

Alicia grinned and shook her head, then picked up her drink and looked at Katie more seriously. "I meant what I said, though. If you really _are_ having dreams that you can't stop thinking about, there's probably some reason. Something going on in your mind that won't let you forget whatever it is that you're dreaming about." 

Angelina looked at Katie and shrugged. "As much as I hate to admit it, she might have something there." 

Katie groaned. She knew her friends, and she knew that they were _not_ going to leave her alone until they had some answers. Of course, she wouldn't either, were the situations reversed. If only the whole situation didn't involve Oliver…. It was going to make the whole thing _much_ more difficult. 

Katie made a face, then let out a sigh and sat back up. "All right, all right! You can ask me three questions." Alicia opened her mouth to protest, but Katie put up her hand. "_Three._ That's all I'm going to answer, and you're lucky to get those." 

Angelina nodded and looked back at Alicia. "It's true. She wouldn't tell _me_ a ruddy thing." 

Alicia's smile widened into a grin of triumph, and she sat forward in her chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Three questions. Okay." She looked at the table thoughtfully for a long moment. Katie threw another frustrated glance at Angelina, who was quite obviously pretending not to notice. 

Alicia suddenly looked up at Katie and nodded. "All right. Question Number One. These dreams that keep bothering you. Do they all include the same man?" 

"What makes you think they're about a man?" 

"You _said_ you would answer three questions. That's Question Number One. 

Katie shrugged her shoulders, looking back down at her bottle. _Oliver?_ "Well, I don't know that you could call him a _man_, exactly…." 

"Katie…." 

Katie sighed and looked up. "Oh, all right! Yes." 

Alicia grinned. "Excellent." She spent another quick moment in thought. "Question Two…." She nodded again and looked up. "All right. Question Number Two. Is it someone from your past?" 

Katie turned her bottle in her fingers, wiping away little drops of condensation. "Well… What do you mean exactly, 'from my past?'" 

"_Katie…._" 

Katie let out a sigh of frustration and looked up at her friends. "I never should have agreed to this! Why do I let the two of you talk me into these things?" 

Angelina smirked. "Because we're your best mates, that's why. Now just answer the question." 

Katie looked at her bottle and sighed again. "Fine. Yes." 

Angelina and Alicia glanced at each other quickly. Apparently Alicia didn't even have to think about the third Question, because she immediately asked, 

"Was it Oliver?" 

Katie looked up sharply. "_What?_" 

Alicia gave a little shrug, her eyes strangely serious. "Was it Oliver?" 

Katie looked at Angelina for help, but found a very similar expression on _her_ face as well. There was no getting out of this one. Katie looked back at Alicia, who raised both eyebrows as she waited for an answer that Katie just couldn't give. 

"What are you talking about?" 

Angelina sat forward, setting her bottle down on the table. "You know. Oliver. Oliver _Wood_. Tall, dark hair. Not bad-looking, really. Quidditch fanatic…." 

Katie let out a frustrated snort. "I _know_ who Oliver is." 

Alicia let out a short laugh. "I should hope so. After Hogwarts, the two of you were practically joined at the lip… Oops!" She grinned, obviously _completely_ aware of her "slip." "I meant 'hip.'" 

Katie threw Alicia a withering glance. "Of _course_ you did." 

The truth of the matter was, she and Oliver _had_ been inseparable. Friends since she joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team in her third year at Hogwarts, their relationship had become friendlier every year. Even after Oliver left Hogwarts to play Quidditch for Puddlemere United, the owls came every week without fail. He was in London this week, he missed her, the weather was terrible, he missed her, he actually got to play a few minutes in the last match, he missed her, he couldn't wait to see her at the match in Wimbourne. He missed her…. And when Katie stepped off of the Hogwarts Express for the last time, Oliver was standing instead of her parents on Platform 9 ¾, waiting for her. The boyish grin was on his face, and in his fingers he was twisting a single red rose whose stem had already been worn to shreds. 

Katie swallowed the tightness in her throat and looked back at her bottle. Angelina and Alicia looked at each other again, and Angelina cleared her throat. "So… you never answered Question Number Three." 

Katie shook her head, not looking up. "No, and I'm not going to." 

Alicia frowned. "Katie, you said…." 

Katie looked up, cutting her off. "I know what I said. But I'm not answering that." 

Angelina frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but at that exact moment a familiar shout rose from somewhere down Diagon Alley. 

"Oy, Angie! _Angie!_" 

Angelina and Katie looked quickly toward the noise, and Katie closed her eyes, slumping slightly in her chair as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had never been so happy to hear Fred Weasley's voice in her life. The Weasley twins had always had an impeccable sense of timing (one _had_ to have an impeccable sense of timing to be the widely-acknowledged Monarchs of Misbehavior), and this was certainly no exception. She resolved to thank Fred later. And George, too, since each was rarely without the other. 

When Katie opened her eyes again, she could see Fred, along _with_ George, weaving his way through shoppers, Quidditch fans and the first of the brightly painted tables outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor (Which sold a great deal more than ice cream, though Fortescue's Fish Palace probably wouldn't have had the same appeal) toward where the three girls were sitting. 

Angelina's face brightened immediately, and she waved. Alicia, on the other hand, was quickly checking her reflection in a spoon, straightening her hair and brushing nonexistent smudges from her cheek. The prominent flirtation between Alicia and George Weasley had been going on for months, each side waiting for the other to make the first move. Fred said that George was just being shy (Angelina called it scheming), and Angelina claimed that Alicia was simply waiting for George to be a gentleman. (At which Fred just laughed and muttered that she was going to be waiting a good long time.) 

Upon reaching the girls' table, Fred slid into the last empty chair (which conveniently happened to be located next to Angelina's) with a cheerful "Hullo, beautiful!" and an even _more_ cheerful "Fancy meeting you here!" He promptly threw an arm around Angelina's shoulder and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek that was so quick that one would have missed it if one had blinked. Still, the faintest hint of a flush crept over Angelina's dark cheeks, and she smiled a little wider as she leaned back into his arm. 

"Hullo, Fred." 

George quickly seized an empty chair from a nearby table and swung it around, slipping into the narrow space between Angelina and Alicia, who quickly moved aside to make more room. George flopped down onto the backwards chair with an exaggerated sigh, folding his arms on the back and looking around at the three faces. 

"So…." 

Fred nodded, as if George had said something truly profound. 

"So…." 

George nodded, as well. "So…." 

Angelina laughed. "So?" 

"So, how are the plans coming, then?" 

The three girls glanced at each other quickly. Angelina widened her eyes in "surprise" and looked at Fred. 

"Plans?" 

George nodded, looking around at the girls again with an expectant air. "Yeah, the plans for our birthday party." 

Alicia frowned slightly, shaking her head. "_What_ birthday party? 

Fred waggled his eyebrows mischievously. "The one you three have been planning for weeks. We know all about it, of course." 

Alicia rolled her eyes quite convincingly, Katie thought, and Angelina started laughing. "Birthday party? Is it your birthday?" 

Fred adopted a hurt expression and removed his arm. "You wound me, Angie. Really." 

Angelina gave him a quick shove with her shoulder. "Oh, stop it. And what makes you think we're planning _anything_?" 

Fred and George looked at each other quickly, then George looked back at Alicia. "Well, you see, Ron's never been one for keeping secrets, and he told us…." 

Alicia laughed and shook her head. "Nope, no good." She looked at George with a grin and said, "Do you _honestly_ think if we were planning _anything_, that we would tell Ron?" 

"But he said…." 

Angelina shook her head. "Nope, sorry. We learned a long time ago never to tell Ron _anything_ important. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love your brother, but…." 

Fred slipped his arm back around Angelina's shoulders and grinned. "I understand completely, luv. Telling Ron _anything_ is the surest way to let _everyone_ know in a _very_ short time." 

"Exactly." 

George looked thoughtful for a moment, then laughed and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Bugger. Well, you can't blame a bloke for trying, can you?" 

Alicia smirked and picked up her bottle of butterbeer again. "Well, I _could_…." 

George grinned and moved his chair a little closer to Alicia. "But you wouldn't." 

Alicia raised one eyebrow playfully. "I might." 

George leaned a little closer and whispered loudly, "Even if I had tickets to the Weird Sisters concert this weekend?" 

Alicia's eyes grew large, and she backed away _just_ enough to look up into George's face. "The… _ what?_ That concert's been sold out for over a month! You can't _possibly_ have tickets!" 

George sat back and folded his arms over his chest casually. "Well, I'm an important man in the business world now, you know. I have connections…." 

Fred rolled his eyes, looked at Katie and mouthed the word "Dad." Apparently there _were_ advantages to having the Deputy Minister of Magic for a father. 

George was inspecting his fingernails closely. "Of course, I have _two_ tickets, and I don't suppose you would want to…." 

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" 

Katie laughed to herself. It was about ruddy time. 

George let out a sigh (of relief, Katie thought) and grinned. "Well make it a thousand and one, and you can go with me." 

Alicia arched a single golden eyebrow. "George Weasley, your social skills are _completely_ lacking. If you think for an instant that asking me like _that_ is going to make me want to...." 

George sat up quickly and looked at Alicia with a pleading expression that Katie could _almost_ believe was a pretense. 

"Go with me, Alicia? Please?" 

Alicia paused for a moment, then scooted her chair closer (if it were possible) to George's, an almost bashful smiling spreading over her lips. "A thousand and one, then." 

"Done." 

Katie grinned and shook her head without saying a word. Fred was grinning, as well, but suddenly he sat straight up in his chair, making a face as if he had just remembered something important and had mentally smacked himself in the forehead for forgetting it in the first place. Angelina, of course, was thrown forward by the sudden motion and threw Fred a glare that couldn't quite hide her laughter. Fred, being completely oblivious at the moment, didn't see it. 

"Tickets! Bugger, I almost forgot!" He spun around to face Angelina. "Angie, about those tickets…." 

Katie looked between the two of them in confused interest. She had no idea what he was talking about, but apparently Angelina did, because she sat just as straight just as suddenly and looked at Fred with an eager expression. 

"Did you…?" 

Fred grinned at her. "I did." 

"And he…? 

"He did." 

"And we…?" 

"Yup." 

Angelina let out a delighted squeal and threw her arms around Fred's neck. Katie and Alicia looked at each other in complete bewilderment. George, on the other hand, was casually leaning back toward the nearest table, at which a middle-aged wizard was slowing poring over the latest copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and nursing a cup of tea that had to have gone cold ages ago. George casually stretched his arm behind him, reaching for the pages of the paper that had been left on the table. 

The wizard looked up with a snort. George stayed his hand, looking at the gentleman with an expression that on anyone _else's_ face could have been mistaken for innocence. The wizard didn't say anything, however, and after a moment, George nodded toward the pile of discarded papers, clearing his throat in a businesslike way. 

"Excuse me, but have you finished with the sports pages? And if you have, could I borrow them for just a tic? And if you haven't, could you finish them, and _then_ I'll borrow them for just a tic?" 

Fred snickered, Angelina groaned, and Alicia shook her head. The wizard simply narrowed his eyes for a moment at George, then shrugged and went back to his paper without a word. George grinned and pulled the rest of the papers from the table (with a rather cheeky "thanks ever so much"), then sat up and started flipping through the pages. 

Fred looked at Katie and shook his head. "I can't do a thing with him, honestly!" 

Katie laughed. "So what's all this about tickets, then?" 

The look of excitement leapt back to Fred's face. "Oh! Didn't Angie tell you? I'm sure she had. Well, George and I have been using our… _connections_ to try and get tickets to the World Cup." 

Katie shook her head. "We've already _got_ tickets. You know that. The Ireland-America match on Saturday." 

Fred grinned. "Ah… But do you have tickets to the _Final_ Match?" 

Katie raised her eyebrows in disbelief. It couldn't be. "Fred, those tickets are _impossible_ to get. You either have to be _very_ rich, or _very_ important." 

Fred reached over and grabbed a cold chip from Katie's place. "Both of which apply to a certain Minister Dumbledore. And the second of which now applies to a certain Deputy Minister Weasley, whom George and I happen to know quite intimately." He took a bite of the chip, made a sour face, and dropped it unceremoniously back onto her plate. "Nice chap, that Deputy Minister Weasley. Always willing to help… well, another Weasley. Which, oddly enough, George and I just happen to be." 

Katie could feel her mouth dropping open. "_You got the tickets?_" 

Angelina let out another elated squeal and Fred grinned, waggling his eyebrows proudly. "I got the tickets." 

George didn't look up from the paper. "_We_ got the tickets." 

Fred nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "_We_ got the tickets." 

Katie laughed and shook her head, saying to Fred, "Fred Weasley, you lucky son-of-a…." 

George _did_ look up at that. "Hey, now. Watch where you're going with that, Bell. That's my mum you're talking about." 

Katie flashed George her most ingratiating smile. "of a beautiful, marvelous, infinitely kind and gracious woman who is also an excellent cook, makes beautiful sweaters, and…." 

George made a face and looked back at his paper. "Merlin, Bell! Watch where you're going with that, too. I think I'm going to be ill." 

Katie snickered and looked back at Fred, who was obviously more than eager to go on. 

"Apparently, Dumbledore had a few extra tickets for the Minister's Box at the Final Match, and asked Dad if he knew anyone who could use them. It took a fair amount of talking, and George and I had to swear on our graves to leave the fireworks at home, but we got them." 

"How many?" 

Fred smirked and sat back in his chair. "Six of them." 

Katie's mouth dropped again, but she shut it quickly, smiled, batted her eyelashes and said in her most fawning tone, "You know, Fred, I've _always_ liked you…." 

Fred's smirk widened into a grin, but before he could say anything else, George let out an incredibly loud sort of laughing shout. 

"Oy, Fred! You'll never guess who they've signed to play Keeper for the English Team!" 

Fred, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and the middle-aged wizard at the next table all looked up in surprise. George's eyes were still moving quickly over the paper. After several moments of George's not saying anything further, Fred leaned forward and snatched the paper out of his brother's hands. He started reading. 

"'The Department of Games and Sports held a press conference this morning to announce the signing of a last-minute replacement Keeper for the English World Cup Quidditch Team. 24-year-old Oliver Wood, of….'" 

Katie's stomach did a funny sort of lurch. She had almost been expecting it, the way her day had been going, but it was still quite a shock. _Oliver?_ Playing in the World Cup? They had talked about it for years, but the conversations had nearly always started with a "wouldn't it be great if…." And now the "wouldn't it be" had become "isn't it great that…." Katie was immeasurably thrilled for Oliver and the incredible opportunity he had been given, but at the same time, she was _incredibly_ depressed at the thought that it had finally happened, and he would be sharing his excitement with someone else. 

No, she didn't care… did she? 

"'… has been having a remarkable season for Puddlemere United after the medical suspension of Andrew Radcliffe, whom Puddlemere officials say _will_ be returning to play at the start of the regular season. Wood begins training with the rest of the English team tomorrow morning, which is none too early, considering that the beginning of the tournament in a mere three days away….'" Fred laughed and looked up, shaking his head in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me! Wood, playing for England? It's ruddy _brilliant!_" 

Alicia was staring at her fork, thoughtfully turning it over in her fingers. "Shouldn't he be playing for Scotland?" 

No one seemed to hear. They were all too busy trying to grab the paper out of Fred's hands. He was holding it just out of reach, still trying to read. "When asked… about the… signing…. Wood was said to remark…. _Hey!_" 

The middle-aged wizard at the next table had rather nimbly reclaimed his paper, scanning the page quickly until he found the article in question. When Fred realized what had happened, he quickly quieted his protests and flashed the man a final smile before turning back to his friends. 

"Who would have thought it? All right, we may all have _thought_ it, but still… Wood in the World Cup!" He looked at Angelina. "Did he say anything to you when you saw him last week? He must have said _something_…." 

Katie looked quickly at Angelina. When she saw him? Angelina glanced at her with a guilty expression, then looked back at Fred, saying quickly. "Fred, this really isn't the best…." 

"I'll bet he came in to sign the contract! That's it, isn't it? I wonder if he knew, and just didn't say anything. Blasted bugger! It would be just like him to…." 

"Fred…." 

"But he should have at _least_ said something on the way out. He would have know by then. I… _ow!_" 

Katie looked away from Angelina toward Fred, who was rubbing his arm and looking at Angelina with a wounded expression. 

"What the… what was _that_ for?" 

Angelina spoke very quietly through clenched teeth. "Fred, this probably isn't the best time to talk about that." 

"Well, why in blazes not? I mean...." 

Angelina glanced quickly at Katie, and Fred followed her gaze. His voice trailed off, and understanding dawned in his eyes. "Oh. That." 

Angelina flashing him a warning glance. "Yes, _that_." 

"But…." 

Angelina shook her head, then looked at Alicia with an earnest, pleading expression. A silent conversation passed between them, and Alicia nodded without a word. She looked at George, who was looking between Fred, Angelina and Katie with a sort of morbid (if somewhat amused) curiosity. Alicia smiled sweetly, took his elbow and stood, trying to pull him with her. 

"George, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind walking me over to Gambol and Japes? There are a few things Id like to look at, and I need an expert opinion." 

George blinked once, then looked up, completely flabbergasted. "What? Gambol and Japes? You've never gone in there in your life, Alicia." He raised an eyebrow, gazing at Alicia with suddenly greater interest. "Have you?" 

Alicia looked over at Fred. "I think you should come too, Fred. I mean, if we're going to be at the World Cup Quidditch Final, well… don't you think we should be prepared?" 

Fred tore his gaze away from Katie and Angelina to raise an eyebrow at Alicia. "My _dear_ Alicia, George and I _promised_ Deputy Minister Weasley that we would leave the fireworks at home. We may be scoundrels, but we are of the most honorable sort." 

Alicia smiled conspiratorially. "Yes. You promised to leave the fireworks at home. But did you promise not to bring anything _else?_" 

Fred blinked, then looked at his brother. A long look passed between Fred and George. After a moment Fred said to George, "Oh, I like her." 

George nodded in complete seriousness and said to Fred, "Oh, I like her _more_." 

In an instant both twins had stood and were pulling Alicia away from the table in the direction of Gambol and Japes Joke Shop. As they disappeared into the steady, if not flooded, stream of shoppers, Katie looked back at Angelina. 

"You saw Oliver?" 

Angelina paused, then nodded slightly. "He came into the Office last week. We talked for a bit." 

Katie let out a breathless laugh. "You saw Oliver. And you didn't tell me." 

Angelina sat forward in her chair. "Katie, I work in the Department of Games and Sports Oliver plays for a professional Quidditch team. He was _bound_ to come in eventually, wasn't he?" 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

Angelina looked at Katie seriously. "Would you have wanted me to?" 

Would she? After a long moment of staring at her friend, Katie had to admit to herself that she just didn't know. It was just easier to leave that part of her life behind. Talking about Oliver would have just reopened old wounds. Like it was doing now. Katie nodded and let her gaze fall to the table, and the napkin lying wadded up next to her plate. She picked it up and started twisting the corner distractedly. 

"How is he?" 

Angelina nodded again, still looking at Katie with an unreadable expression. "He looks good. He's filled out a little. Not that he was ever scrawny before, but professional Quidditch has been _very_ good to him." She smiled faintly. "And he's grown out his hair. Like you always said he should." 

Katie nodded. "I know. I've seen pictures." 

"It looks good." 

Katie had no answer to that. 

"He asked after you." 

Katie's grip tightened on the napkin, but she had no answer to that, either. 

A long moment of silence passed between them. Angelina took a breath as if to speak, but let it out again without saying a word. A moment later, she took another breath and said quietly, "That bloke that's been in your dreams. It _is_ Oliver, isn't it?" 

Katie's fingers stopped moving on the napkin. She didn't look up, but nodded almost imperceptibly. There was no use trying to hide it anymore. Not from Angie. 

There was another quiet space, and then Angelina spoke again. "How long?" 

Katie shrugged her shoulders. "A couple of weeks. I don't know why. I honestly thought… Well, I had moved on. I have a good job, I'm almost done with my studies…." She looked up at Angelina, sighing heavily. "But he won't leave me alone." 

"Maybe he never did." 

Katie looked back down at her hands, then threw her napkin away with a curse that made Angelina flinch and the wizard at the next table look at her with a single raised eyebrow. Katie looked back down, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. "He always _was_ mulish, wasn't he?" 

Angelina nodded with a smile. "He's as stubborn as you are. And his temper's _almost_ as hot." 

Katie shook her head, looking at the discarded napkin. "I'm over him, Angie." 

"Are you?" 

Katie looked up at Angelina. Again, silence reigned until at last Angelina sat forward, leaning her elbows on the table. "Maybe Alicia was right. Maybe you're trying to tell yourself something. Maybe…." 

Katie scowled and looked up at Angelina. "Blast it, Angie, don't _you_ start…." 

Angelina sighed and sat back up. "Katie, I know it was hard for you. Merlin, I _know_ it was hard. I watched you cry for weeks. But it's been over a year. You haven't even _talked_ to him in over a year. Merlin knows he's tried to talk to _you_. Maybe you should…." 

"Maybe nothing." 

"Katie, he may have been telling the truth. Have you ever considered that?" 

Katie let out a disbelieving laugh. "Telling me the truth? That he didn't know how she got there? That he couldn't remember what had happened? He just woke up one morning and found himself half-naked in bed with a redhead whose name he didn't even _know?_ Give me a _little_ credit, Angie." 

"It's happened, Katie. Maybe it was a Memory Charm…." 

"Memory Charms aren't that selective." 

"You don't know what happ…." 

Katie cut her off sharply. "I know enough! And I _don't_ want to have this conversation again!" She could feel her throat tightening, could feel the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes, but she pushed them both away. She wasn't going to do this. Not now. 

"Katie, he… You _need_ to talk to him…." 

Katie sighed and looked away. "I don't want to hear anything he has to say!" 

"After all this time, you're still that angry?" 

Katie looked up. "_Yes,_ Angie! Wouldn't you be?" 

"Katie…." 

Katie shook her head, interrupting again. "Angie, do you know what it's _like?_ To walk in on… on someone you… you…." She frowned and shook her head, unable to say the word. "And see them… see them with someone else? Like _that?_" 

Angelina looked down. "Katie, I know it must have hurt, but I don't think…." 

Katie shook her head, interrupting. "No! No, Angie, you don't know. He was in bed. _His_ bed. With a woman. And that woman _wasn't_ me. Not… that it would have been anyway, but _that's not the point!"_

"He was _asleep,_ Katie. Completely passed out." 

"And?" 

"And he says he doesn't remember anything. Not how he got home from the pub, not how she ended up in his flat, not anything that happened… Or _didn't_ happen." 

"But _she_ did." 

"But _he_ didn't." 

Katie laughed. "Angie, do you have any idea how _ridiculous_ that sounds?" 

Angelina shook her head emphatically. "Katie, Oliver had never lied to you before that day. Never." 

Katie looked down, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Well, it only takes one lie to bring it all crashing down, doesn't it?" 

Angelina fell silent. Katie looked up, her voice barely above a whisper. 

"I loved him, Angie." 

Angelina paused, then took a deep breath and nodded in defeat. "I know, Katie." 

There was another long moment of silence. After what seemed an eternity, Katie sighed and pushed back her chair. "Anyway, thanks for lunch, but I've got to get back." She forced a smile to her face. "I'm sure Mr. Pendlesmythe's probably burned the shop down by now. Or maybe he's buried himself under a pile of man-eating textbooks." 

Angelina smirked and shook her head. "One can always hope…." 

Katie laughed quietly, but she made no move to get up. "Oh, he's not so bad. He's letting me have a day off on Saturday, after all." 

Angelina laughed. "It's a good thing, or I'd have Fred come and snatch you out from under his nose. He's not above a little foul play when it comes to Quidditch, you know. It used to drive Oliver crazy…." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head again. "Sorry." 

Katie reached forward to squeeze her friend's hand. Her voice became serious. "Angie, you know I love you. And I appreciate what you're trying to do, really I do. But I'm all right. Truly. I'm just having… _very_ peculiar dreams. They don't _mean_ anything. Oliver's moved on, and so have I. Nothing will change that." 

Angelina sighed and nodded slowly, smiling. "All right, Katie. If you say so." 

Katie nodded. "Good. So I'll see you on Saturday, then?" 

Angelina nodded, piling the empty plates on the table. "If not before. And I'll Floo you tonight, all right?" 

Katie nodded with a smile. "Sure." 

Angelina looked up. "Katie, you're sure you're all right…?" 

Katie nodded and squeezed Angelina's hand again. "I'm fine, Angie, really. And I'm glad that Oliver's doing so well. Honestly. He deserves this chance." 

She smiled. "I think it's just all the attention he's been getting in the _Prophet_. It's bound to drag up memories, isn't it?" Katie picked up her bag and stood. 

Angelina nodded. "I suppose so." 

"Besides," Katie said, smiling and slinging her bag over her shoulder, "what are the chances I'll ever see Oliver Wood again? It will all work out, I promise." Katie smiled and winked, tucked a stray curl behind her ear and turned in the direction of Flourish and Botts Bookstore. 

Somewhere in Katie Bell's flat, the tiny picture of Oliver Wood winked again.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, and there you have it! This chapter is quite a bit longer than I had planned, but I promised that I would tell you what Oliver had done in this chapter, and by golly, I was going to do it! ^_^ If the pacing is terrible, please let me know... My stories have a tendency to get lost in the details. ^_^

(And Oliver will be making his first appearance soon, I hope!)

And again, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! They made this chapter happen. ^_^

* * *

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simply have a severe case of novel envy.


	5. Chapter 4: Face to Face

**New Dreams for Old**

* * *

**Chapter 4  
Face to Face**

_Fate will bring together those a thousand miles apart; without fate, they will miss each other though they come face to face. _

_ -Chinese Proverb_

  
  


"…Allen throws the quaffle, and… Oh! Right between McAllister's hands and through the hoop! Ten points, and the first goal for the Americans! 'Holy cow,' as they say! The fans are going absolutely _manic_…!" 

And they were. All throughout the World Cup Stadium, tiny American flags were waving frantically over the heads of the crowd while a thousand voices shouted and cheered and sang snatches of songs that Katie had never heard. The Irish fans, on the other hand, were bellowing their disappointment, and a sudden rain of shamrocks fell upon the crowd, thanks to a clever spell from an unknown source. 

A particularly loud group of Americans happened to be sitting a few rows behind Katie and her friends. As they started in on a rather off-key rendition of the American National Anthem, Katie winced slightly at the musical massacre and looked over at Angelina. Angelina was looking over her shoulder with a broad grin, while at her side, Fred leapt from his seat, wand in hand. 

Katie's eyes widened slightly. Fred was a fanatic about Quidditch, that was certain, but she had _never_ thought that he would resort to hexing the opposing team's fans. She started to rise out of her own seat, but before she could reach a hand across Angelina to grab Fred's arm, he had raised his wand… 

And was enthusiastically leading the impromptu chorus. 

"…the rocket's red glaaaare, the bombs bursting in aaaair…." 

Angelina turned back around, laughing and shaking her head. She leaned over to Katie and whispered, "Someone's off." 

Katie laughed under her breath, brushing a few tiny shamrocks from her shoulder as she did. "You noticed that too, did you?" 

Angelina nodded, sending little clovers flying everywhere. "Yeah. I…" 

Angelina began to stay something else, then stopped suddenly and frowned. She started making little spitting noises and flicking her tongue in and out of her mouth, shaking her head. Katie raised one eyebrow, but said nothing, and at last Angelina nodded her satisfaction. She looked over at Katie and said apologetically, 

"Shamrocks." 

Katie grinned. "Ah… Of _course_." 

At that moment, the song behind them ended, replaced by laughter and shouts of triumph. Fred dropped back into his seat on the other side of Angelina, tossing his hair out of his eyes. Angelina shifted slightly to give him more room, but was pulled right back by Fred's arm around her shoulder. 

He nodded seriously (as seriously as Fred Weasley could be, anyway) and said, "Well, it was a little rough there for a bit, but I think I got them through all right." 

Angelina arched a single dark eyebrow. "Yeah, funny thing about that. I hadn't realized that you _knew_ the American National Anthem." 

Fred blinked, settling back in his seat. "Ah, so _that's _what it was. I thought for _certain_ it was the new song by Wacky Wayne and the Widgets…." 

Katie laughed quietly and shook her head, and Angelina just grinned. Fred opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment the announcer started shouting again, his excitement echoing even over the sudden cheering of the crowd. 

"And it's through! Another goal for the Americans! I can't believe it! It's 20-90 in favor of Ireland, but at this rate…." 

Fred leaned down and retrieved his butterbeer from where he had stashed it (carefully) under the bench. He shook his head. "Rotten luck for McAllister. Usually solid as a rock, that one, but…." He shook his head again, his silence saying everything. 

Katie shrugged. "Everyone's allowed an off day once in a while, I suppose." 

Fred shrugged, too, but there was a wry twist to his mouth. "Well, of _course_, but it's not just today. Apparently he had a bad match against Nigeria, as well." 

Angelina frowned. "I thought Ireland _won_ against Nigeria." 

Fred took a drink and nodded. "Yeah, they did, but it was only by 10 points, and it was _Ireland's_ Seeker that caught the Snitch." 

"Oh…." 

Fred narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You'd almost think that he…." 

"Oy, make voom dere!" 

Katie looked up. George and Alicia were standing beside her at the end of the row, looking down at her with identically impatient expressions. Or rather, George was looking down at Katie with an impatient expression. Alicia's expression was more akin to amused annoyance, and was directed at George. 

George had at least six fresh bottles of butterbeer hanging from his fingers and a package of miniature chocolate frogs clutched tightly in his teeth (which could explain the sudden speech impediment). Add to that the licorice whips hanging around his neck, and what appeared to be an extremely large foam hand tucked under one arm, and George Weasley cut a very comical figure. Even for George Weasley. 

Katie snickered loudly and nodded toward the foam hand. It was painted red, white, and blue, and a large USA blinked somewhere in the shadows under George's arm. 

"What's that, then?" 

George blinked, then looked down in the direction of the hand. He nodded with a toothy grin. 

"Don' know. Thome bloke gave it to me back dere. Mus' be a Yankee thing…." 

Katie laughed again and stood, leaning back as far as she could to let her two friends past. George bowed slightly and stepped away, and Alicia smiled as she went first down the row. George quickly followed, smiling widely. As George squeezed his way past Fred and Angelina, however, Fred reached out and plucked a bottle of butterbeer from George's passing hand. 

"Beautiful! You're just in time, George my boy!" 

As George stood sputtering a muffled protest, Fred twisted the cap off of the butterbeer and prepared to take a long drink. George was pushing at Fred's legs with his foot, muttering graceless profanities and trying to knock his brother off balance. It was no good. Fred just laughed and raised his eyebrows in unspoken challenge, making a show of drawing the bottle closer to his mouth. 

Before the bottle met Fred's lips, however, Alicia snatched it back out of his hands and was holding it just out of reach. Fred looked up in surprise, his hand opening and closing onto thin air. Alicia arched a single perfectly-plucked eyebrow and moved further down the row to her seat, followed by George, who was looking at Fred with what Katie supposed was _meant_ to be a triumphant grin. The effect, however, was somewhat spoiled by the bag of frogs in his teeth and the fact that Fred's foot suddenly appeared in George's path. 

George stumbled forward, into Alicia's back. Alicia turned around with a startled cry, promptly dropping the rescued butterbeer. George watched it fall with a groan, then looked at Alicia with an expression somewhere between agonizing disappointment and (Katie thought) lovesick puppy. 

"Shorry, 'Leesha, uh didn' mean to knock into you like tha… Idio brudder of mine. Ah didn' get ye wet, did I…?" 

Alicia did her best to look stern, but failed miserably, laughing as she pulled the bag of chocolate frogs out of George's mouth. He gratefully stretched his lips, then looked back at Alicia and started over. 

"Sorry, Alicia. I didn't mean to knock into you like that, but…." 

Alicia grinned and pulled the licorice from around George's neck. "I know… Idiot brother of yours." She looked around George toward Fred to emphasize her point. "And no, I'm fine. Thank you." 

Fred made a face, which Alicia quickly returned. Then she looked down at her feet with a sigh. "Just minus one butterbeer, I'm afraid." 

The grin returned to George's face. "Oh, that's all right." He bent down to stash the remaining butterbeers under the seat, then took the bag of frogs from Alicia and tore it open. 

"Fred'll buy you another one. Won't you, Fred?" 

These last few words were quickly followed by the muffled _thwack_ of a miniature chocolate frog hitting Fred Weasley squarely in the forehead. Alicia gasped out a snicker, Angelina laughed more loudly, and Katie watched the whole exchange with a wide grin. 

Fred sat up in his seat, opening his mouth to complain, but the announcer's voice cut into his protest, instantly setting off another round of cheering from the rowdy Americans a few rows back. 

"…another goal by Richie! This is amazing, folks! I have to say, if the Irish want to get themselves back into this game, they're really going to have to move their…." 

George spun around at once to see what had happened, and Fred jumped up right behind him, shoving George aside in his excitement. 

"Hey! Watch it, there!" 

Alicia had once again been the unintended victim of Fred's jostling, but this time, as George was shoved up against her, he quickly (without taking his eyes off of the action) slid his arm around her waist to hold her steady. Alicia's voice trailed off into surprised silence, and she blinked twice before flashing an unsteady grin at Katie and Angelina. Angelina laughed and pushed at Fred's leg, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to get his attention. 

"Fred!" 

Fred batted at Angelina's hand, all but jumping up and down as he shouted something about shamrocks and rockets and where the Americans could shoot them. George was shouting too, but it was hard to understand what he was saying with a small chocolate frog filling his mouth. Katie laughed under her breath and shook her head, but Angelina shoved at Fred's leg a little harder, biting back her own laughter. 

"Oy, Weasley!" 

Fred glanced down, then back at the field, but it was enough for Angelina to go on. 

"You owe Alicia a butterbeer! And I'm a big peckish, myself!" 

Fred waved an impatient hand and nodded his head, still shouting at the field. Angelina shoved him again, hard, and Fred sat down in his seat with a _thud_, looking over at Angelina with wide blue eyes. 

"What? Oh. Well, while you're off getting one, I could use…." 

Angelina shook her head, cutting him off. "No, no, no… _I_ bought the last round. It's your turn, Weasley." 

Fred groaned and shifted in his seat, reaching into the pocket of his faded blue jeans. "Oh, all right, all right!" He dropped a few coins into Angelina's hand, already trying to look back over George's shoulder. "But…." 

Angelina pretended to be insulted. "You mean, you're going to go and make me buy them myself? Frederick Mercurius Weasley, what sort of gentleman are you…?" 

Fred looked at Angelina then, a pleading, almost desperate look in his eyes. "Oh, come on, Angie… You know I love you, but…." 

Angelina laughed and leaned over to place a lightning-fast kiss on Fred's cheek. "I know. I'll go and buy them myself, but I'm getting a cauldron cake with what's left over. And one for Katie, if she'll go with me…." 

Fred grinned and threw his arms around Angelina's shoulders. His kiss missed her cheek completely and placed itself firmly upon her lips. 

"You're beautiful. You know that, don't you?" 

Angelina blushed furiously, but laughed and shook her head. "Yeah, yeah… Flattery will get you everywhere…." 

But Fred was already on his feet again, leaning dangerously forward and all but standing on the shoulders of the young Asian couple sitting in front of him. Angelina rolled her eyes and stood, looking down at Katie with a smile. 

"Shall we?" 

Katie stood up and brushed a few more shamrocks from her jeans. "Go spend Fred's money?" She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. "When have I ever said no to _that_?" 

*** 

Katie tucked a stray curl behind her ear and looked around, sighing wearily. Away from the stands, the chaos of the Quidditch match was a little less… _chaotic_, but there was still a large crowd gathered around the food carts, and Katie and Angelina had been standing in the queue in front of the butterbeer stand for nearly fifteen minutes without moving more than a few feet. 

Angelina looked over at Katie's sigh and made a face. "My feelings, exactly." 

Katie smiled and dropped her hand. "It's not moving very quickly, is it?" 

Angelina stood on her toes and craned her neck to see over the people in front of her. "Well, it's _moving_. That's _something_, I suppose." She dropped back down and sighed miserably, though a smile lingered on her lips. "We might _actually_ reach the front of the queue sometime this week." 

Katie grinned and peered around the side. "Great. Too bad the match will be over by then." 

Angelina nodded, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. "Rotten luck, that. But at least we'll be full of butterbeer. That should soften the blow a bit." 

Katie laughed quietly and shrugged her shoulders. "Do you think Fred will even notice that we never made it back?" 

Angelina pretended to think for a moment, shifting her weight again. "Well… ordinarily I'd say no, but the involvement of butterbeer changes the whole situation. He'll want his money back, at least…." 

Katie grinned and shook her head. "That's true enough. I think he probably…." Her voice trailed off as Angelina moved around again, making a distinctly unhappy face. 

Katie smiled and shook her head slightly. "Are you okay, Angie?" 

Angelina looked up and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. It's just that I've got to…." She nodded her head in the general direction of the restrooms. "Too much butterbeer, I'm afraid…." 

Katie followed the gesture, then laughed and held out her hand. "Well, give me the money, Angie, and go _on_." 

"But what about…?" 

Katie looked at the line again and groaned. "Chances are, I'll still be here when you're finished." 

Angelina looked in the direction of the loo and grimaced. "Not with a queue like _that_. It's worse than this one." She bit her lip for a moment, then looked at Katie with a hopeful expression. "But if you're certain you'll be all right…." 

Katie rolled her eyes and waved her hand impatiently. "Yes, now will you get going, please?" 

Angelina sighed gratefully and dropped the coins into Katie's hand. "Katherine Bell, you are an _angel_ among witches. Really." 

Katie just laughed and waved her free hand toward the restrooms. Angelina started toward them, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be back as soon as I can!" 

Katie smiled as she watched her friend disappear into the crowd. Then she turned, tossing her hair out of her eyes with a sigh. The queue had moved a few inches. Not many, but it was enough to encourage Katie, and she stepped forward, turning the coins over in her hand. 

There was a sudden roar from the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. Katie couldn't quite make out what the announcer was shouting, but something had _definitely_ happened. A few of the patrons ahead of her in the queue rushed off in the direction of the pitch, their curiosity apparently greater than their thirst. Katie slowly moved up a few feet, standing on her toes to try and see over the heads of the crowd. It was no use. There were just too many, and she had never been tall. 

Unfortunately, the fact that she was looking toward the Quidditch Pitch meant that she _wasn't_ looking where she was going, and Katie soon collided with another person in the queue. A very solid person, several inches taller than she was, and _much_ heavier. She stumbled back with a startled cry. The coins fell from her hand into the trampled grass, and Katie dropped back to her feet, her eyes going wide. 

"Oh, Merlin… I am _so_ sorry…." 

She hastily stammered an apology, then quickly cast her eyes around to see where the coins had fallen. She could see one peeking out from under a clump of grass, and started to bend toward it when the person in front of her turned around. 

"It's all right, really. I…." The voice trailed off. There was a slight pause. Then he spoke again, more than a hint of confusion in his voice. 

"Katie…?" 

Katie froze instantly, her hand stretched out toward the coin. _Oh, Merlin…._

There was no mistaking that voice. It was deep, and smooth, with a musical lilt that was heartbreakingly familiar. Katie took a deep breath, then another, and only then did she raise her gaze. He had turned, and it took her only a moment to take in the deep brown eyes, the lazy half-smile, the broad shoulders… the _eyes._

_ Oh, Merlin…. _

Katie felt her mouth drop, but she could do nothing to stop it. Her hand started to tremble slightly, and she closed it into a small fist, drawing it back. She stood slowly, the coin in the grass all but forgotten. 

"O..Oliver…?" 

The lazy half-smile widened instantly into a broad grin, and Oliver Wood gave a single disbelieving chuckle. "Wow. I…." He stood for a moment with his mouth open, then closed it and blew out a deep breath through pursed lips. 

Katie smiled in spite of herself, at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Of all the people to (quite literally) run into…. 

"Oh…." 

Her voice trailed off into silence, and for a long moment neither spoke. They stood staring at each other for what seemed an eternity, Oliver not moving his gaze from her face, and Katie desperately hoping that Oliver couldn't hear her heart as it hammered against her ribs. At last Oliver ran his hand through his hair and smiled again, a little hesitantly. 

"Katie. Wow." He dropped his hand, shaking his head slowly. "How… are you?" 

Katie managed to smile, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I'm… good. How are you?" 

Oliver nodded, his smile widening just slightly. "Good." 

There was another awkward pause. Katie folded her arms over her chest, looking around quickly before looking back up at Oliver. Oliver hooked his thumb through a belt loop on his faded jeans, shifting his weight. It was a simple movement, but there was just something about the way he did it…. 

Katie took a deep breath. Angelina had been right. Professional Quidditch had been _very_ good to Oliver Wood. 

Though Oliver had always been burly, now he seemed _massive._ His shoulders were broad under the tight black tee-shirt, and there were faint shadows on his chest that spoke of tight muscles. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans that were… well, _snug_, and as Oliver shifted his weight again, Katie could almost see the movement of the muscles in his thighs. Nice. And he _had_ grown out his hair. It was thicker, though the same deep brown that it had always been, and it curled slightly as it reached the collar of his shirt. But his eyes… Well, they were the same, as was his smile. 

Katie found herself smiling again, in spite of herself. It was becoming very difficult not to imagine him in a torn and dirty pirate's shirt, with tattered leather pants and a dark curls around his shoulders. Smiling and murmuring as he held her hand on the edge of a cliff…. 

Katie cursed silently. This was definitely _not_ the time for this. 

Suddenly Oliver started and looked around, running a hand through his hair. 

"Oh… You had some money, didn't you? Did you drop it?" 

Katie nodded quickly, broken from her thoughts. "Ah… Yes, actually. Just a few galleons, really, but they're not mine, and I don't think he'd be very happy if I lost them…." 

Oliver's smile faltered slightly. "Ah." He took a quick look around the grass, letting his hand drop from his waist. "Well, they must be around here somewhere… Right." 

He bent and picked up the coin that Katie had seen peeking out from the grass. Apparently there was another coin close to it, because Oliver picked up that one, as well. He stood, looking at the coins in his hand for a long moment before tossing them into the air. He caught them easily, then looked at Katie and offered the rescued coins to her with a faint smile. 

"There you are, then." 

Katie smiled and took the coins from Oliver's hand, shivering slightly as her fingertips brushed against the warmth of his palm. Her smile faded just slightly, and she gave her head a nearly imperceptible shake. 

_ This is ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself, Katie…. _

She looked at the coins in her hand. There were two, less than what she had started out with. She looked around quickly, curling her fingers around the coins as she cursed under her breath. Oliver moved his head forward, trying to meet Katie's eyes. 

"What…?" 

Katie glanced up quickly. "There were a few more. I'm not sure how many, exactly, but…." 

Oliver was already reaching into his pocket. "Sorry, Katie. I didn't see any more, but here…." He extended his hand, a few golden coins hidden in his curled fingers. Katie looked up and shook her head, smiling. 

"Oh no, Oliver… I couldn't." 

Oliver shrugged and reached forward with his free hand, taking hers with a smile and depositing the coins into it. "You could. And, well, since I'm the clumsy lummox that caused you to lose them in the first place, it only seems right that I replace them. I wouldn't want your…" Here Oliver seemed to be searching for the right word. "…_friend_ to get angry with you." 

Katie laughed and shook her head, painfully aware of the warmth of Oliver's fingers on her wrist. "No, it's… it's just Fred. Angie and I would have sent him to get his own butterbeer, but you know how he gets…." 

Oliver's smile widened into a grin. It seemed to hold a hint of… relief? But… that would have been silly. 

"Fred? Really? He's here then? And I imagine George isn't far behind?" 

Katie shrugged, still smiling, desperately hoping that she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. "Is he ever? Angie managed to get us all tickets to this game. She works in the Department of Sports and Games, you know. So we all got to come…. Angie and Alicia, Fred and George, and well… me. I'm the odd man out, I'm afraid." 

Oliver nodded slowly, the languid half-smile on his lips again. He was distractedly rubbing his thumb over Katie's wrist in a way that made it _very_ difficult to think properly. 

"I seriously doubt that…." 

Katie cleared her throat softly and pulled her wrist away. Oliver blinked, startled. He let her hand slip from his grasp. 

"I'm sorry…." Oliver looped both thumbs through his belt loops now, taking a single step back. The smile was all but faded from his lips. "Old habits, you know. You'd think they would be gone by now…" 

Katie nodded, glancing toward the ground. "No, it's all right." She looked back up. Oliver was still watching her, and unreadable expression in his dark eyes. "I… umm…." 

"You look great." 

Katie smiled in spite of herself. She looked down, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks. "Thanks." She looked up, her smile widening softly. "You look a bit of all right, yourself." 

Oliver shrugged, and Katie thought she could see a bit of color rising to his face. "Thanks. Quidditch, you know. It's not like Hogwarts." He looked back up, smiling as his dark eyes roamed over her face. "You let your hair grow…." 

Katie reached back to where her long brown curls were pulled back into an untidy ponytail. "Oh… yeah." She gave a short chuckle. "You did, too…." 

Oliver grinned. "Yeah. I remember someone telling me years ago that I'd look _fabulous_ with a bit more hair, so I thought I'd give it a go." He winked as Katie laughed again. 

Katie hid her vague feeling of discomfort by looking around Oliver's shoulder and motioning toward the front of the queue. "I… think we're a bit behind." 

Oliver looked over his shoulder and took a few steps toward the stand. "I think you're right." He looked back at Katie. "So, what have…." 

Katie started speaking at the same time. "So I heard…." 

They both laughed and shook their heads. Oliver rubbed at his cheek with one shoulder, the smile lingering on his lips. "You go ahead…." 

Katie grinned. "So… I read that you're playing for England this year." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's… a big thing for you. I'm… really happy for you." 

Oliver smiled and shrugged, looking down at the ground. He kicked softly at a clump of grass. "Yeah, thanks. I was pretty surprised, to be honest. I wasn't expecting that. Not yet, anyway…." He flashed Katie another grin. 

Katie laughed. "I wasn't all that surprised. I knew it was going to happen one day." She was surprised to have said that. Quickly, she drew her eyebrows together and looked back at Oliver. "I was surprised to hear that you were playing for England, though. I thought you'd be…." 

"Playing for Scotland?" Oliver nodded, kicking at the clump of grass again before looking up. 

Katie nodded, her smile widening. "Yeah." 

Oliver shrugged. "Well, there _had_ been talks, but I guess the Scottish team's been having a rough time of it the past few years. Player conflicts, management issues…." 

He smiled slightly. "I guess there was some sort of a… _scandal_ with a few of the players this year. No one knows exactly what happened. It's all been kept pretty quiet. There was a tiny announcement in the Prophet a few months ago that the Scottish team was being disbanded until the… 'issues could be resolved…,' but that was all." 

Katie nodded slowly. "I remember reading something about that, now that you mention it…." 

Oliver nodded. "I wish I could tell you more about what happened, but I don't know a lot more than you do." He smiled and shrugged again. "I thought my chance to play in the Cup was gone. But… then I got an owl from the Department of Sports and Games, and…." 

Katie grinned. "And the rest, as they say, will be history…." 

Oliver flushed again, running a hand through his curls with a laugh. "I don't know about that, but I'm grateful for the chance…." 

Katie's smile softened, and she surprised herself again. "I'm glad for you. No one deserves it more." 

Oliver looked at Katie, his smile fading. There was something in his eyes… something that made Katie's heart begin to race and her stomach to do strange little flips. 

_ I love you too, Katie…. _

She took a deep, trembling breath. Oliver took a step forward, speaking a little hesitantly. 

"Katie, I…." 

Katie quickly cut him off, taking a step back and folding her arms over her chest. She couldn't do this now. Not now. 

"So… when is your first match?" 

Oliver stopped, his mouth still open. "I…" He blinked and looked down at the grass. "Oh… next week. We're playing Albania, which should be interesting…." He smiled and shrugged, then paused and looked back at Katie as if something had just occurred to him. 

"I… don't suppose you're going to be there?" 

Katie smiled and shook her head. "These are the only tickets the lot of us could get. Well, these and… Fred managed to get a few tickets to the Finals. Connections, you know…." 

Oliver nodded with a laugh, apparently impressed. "I guess it comes in handy to know people in high places." 

Katie grinned and shrugged. "I guess. I'm afraid that I only know people who know people who know people in high places." 

Oliver laughed again and shook his head, still watching Katie. He hesitated for a moment, then began, "Well… I happen to have a few tickets to the match against Albania next week. I haven't anyone to give them to, and… Well, I thought that maybe…." 

"Katie? Angie?" 

Both Katie and Oliver looked up quickly, startled at Alicia's shout. The blonde girl was pushing her way through an adjacent queue, mumbling apologies as she did. At last she made it through, and looked around. She smiled as she met Katie's eyes. 

"There you are! I thought we'd lost you! Where's Angie? You mean to tell me, you still haven't…." Alicia's voice trailed off as she saw Oliver standing beside Katie, and her green eyes went wide. 

"Oliver?" 

The smile leapt back to Oliver's lips, and he took a quick step away from Katie (who, much to her chagrin, wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed). 

Alicia let out a breathless laugh and all but ran forward, throwing her arms around Oliver's neck. Katie laughed as Oliver stumbled back, awkwardly putting his arms around Alicia's waist in a quick hug. Alicia stepped back quickly, an incredulous grin on her face. 

"Oliver! I… Oliver!! How are you?" 

Oliver laughed and glanced over at Katie. "I'm… good, thanks." 

Alicia looked at Katie, then back at Oliver. "I'm… a little surprised to see you…." 

Oliver laughed and shook his head. "I doubt you're as surprised as Katie was." 

Alicia looked back at Katie with wide eyes. Katie shrugged with a wry grin, feeling a sudden need to explain. "I… just sort of ran into him. Literally." 

Alicia laughed and looked back at Oliver. "Well, thank Merlin for clumsy Katies! It's so good to see you, Oliver! I didn't think we would ever…." 

At that moment, another shout rose from somewhere behind the next queue. 

"Alicia? Ruddy hel… _Alicia!_ Where in Merlin's name are you off to…?" 

George Weasley's voice broke off as he made his way through the queue. He saw Alicia, and stepped forward with a grin. 

"Ah! There you are! I thought you had…." 

His steps slowed, however, as he saw Katie, and more importantly, Oliver _beside_ Katie. 

"What the…?" 

Fred soon broke through the queue behind George, muttering apologies and whispering curses as he stepped on toes and ran into elbows. He finally made his way through, sighing wearily and rubbing at his ribs as he hurried forward. He wasn't looking where he was going, however, and soon ran straight on into George. Fred's curse was not _quite_ so whispered on that one. 

"Look out, George! I could have injured myself…." 

Fred's voice, too, faded quickly at the sight of Oliver standing beside Katie. Fred looked at George, George looked at Fred, and suddenly both Weasleys broke out into identical grins. They rushed forward, hands outstretched and voices laughing. 

"Well, will you look at this…?" 

"Oliver Wood! What in Merlin's name are you doing here…?" 

"He's buying butterbeer, you idiot…." 

"That's not what it looks like to _me_…." 

Oliver laughed and took a step forward, shaking George's hand before stumbling forward under an energetic backslap from Fred. Then Fred was shaking his other hand, and Oliver took a step backward, trying rather unsuccessfully to pull himself from the twins' grasps. 

"Fred and George! Or is it George and Fred? How are you?" He raised his eyebrows and grinned. 

George (for Katie could recognize the few vague differences between the two) laughed and stepped back, casually slipping his arm around Alicia's waist. 

"Ah… rich and miserable. You know how it is…." 

Alicia threw George an exaggerated pout, and George quickly added. "Well, not _that_ miserable…." 

Oliver looked between George and Alicia with raised eyebrows, his grin widening as he considered them with narrowed eyes. He seemed about to say something, but Fred quickly slapped Oliver on the back again, and the big Scotsman looked over, grimacing slightly. Fred seemed not to notice and slapped him again. 

"So, Oliver old boy! How in the _world_ has life been treating you? Quidditch going well? Fame, fortune, and all that? Wine, women, and… well, I would say 'song,' but as I recall, you couldn't carry a tune in a rusted bucket…. And I prefer butterbeer to wine, and well, I wouldn't know about the women, I only need one, but…." 

Oliver laughed loudly and managed to take a step back out of Fred's reach. "I'm fine, thanks. Quidditch is going well, I'm not famous, but the money is nice, and as far as the wine, women and song, I'm not overly fond of wine, either, I don't have my woman at the moment, and what in Merlin's name do you mean, I can't sing?" 

Fred rolled his eyes. "You can't sing. Everyone knows that." Fred looked over at Katie expectantly. "Katie?" 

Katie smiled and shook her head, her mind considering what Oliver had just said. "I… have no comment at the present time." 

Fred just grinned, and George went on, instead. "And what's this about no woman? I thought you had quite a thing going on with that Hightower bird. What's her name?" 

Katie took a deep breath looked at Oliver. She knew the Hightower bird's name. 

Oliver shrugged lightly, his eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. "Helena. Her name is Helena, and…." He shrugged again, forcing the smile back to his lips. "It's been… rather off and on lately, I'm afraid. Now just happens to be one of those… _off_ times. It happens." 

Katie looked down, then back back at Oliver. He wasn't looking at her, rather just over her shoulder, his eyes slightly unfocused. After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself, and looked at Katie quickly before turning back to George. 

"Anyway… So how are you both? I hear the shop's doing well…." 

Fred grinned. "It's ruddy brilliant! We'll be ready to open a second location in another year or so, I think." 

George had an identical grin on his face. "Twice the mischief, eh?" 

Oliver laughed and shook his head. "I despair for the residents of the wizarding world." 

Fred laughed, as well. "Ah, don't despair for them too much. They're keeping us in business, you know." 

George wiggled his eyebrows and tightened his arms around Alicia's waist. (Alicia didn't seem to mind.) "So, Oliver… you're playing next weekend, then?" 

Oliver nodded, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Yeah. Albania. Then we move on to play the winner of this match…." 

Fred cut in. "That's _if_ you win, you know…." 

Oliver raised one eyebrow and threw Fred a withering look. Fred just laughed and shook his head. Alicia joined him, and even Katie chuckled under her breath. Oliver had _never_ been short of confidence. 

It had been one of the things Katie had loved about him. 

George threw Fred a glance much like Oliver's, then looked back at his former Quidditch Captain. George grinned and waggled his eyebrows again. 

"I don't suppose you have any extra tickets lying around…." 

Oliver laughed and glanced at Katie, then looked back at George. "As a matter of fact, I was just trying to get Katie to agree to take some…." 

"Trying?" George looked at Katie in disbelief. "You mean, you were actually going to say no? Are you _mental_?" 

Katie opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver quickly cut in, looking over at her hopefully. "She… hasn't actually given me an answer yet." 

Everyone looked at Katie expectantly. She took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders and stammering slightly. "Well, I didn't think it would be…." 

Oliver took a step toward her, leaning down to look into Katie eyes. "I don't have anyone else to give them to, really… I've already given a pair to my parents, and… anyway, I… _they_ would love to see you…." 

Katie looked up, letting out her breath in a puff. He was doing the big brown puppy-eye thing. She _hated_ that. 

Oliver went on, his smile widening slightly. "Please, Katie… it's the least I can do. And it would be great to have you there. All of you, of course…." 

At Katie groaned miserably and looked away. She frowned and waved her hand impatiently. "Well, give them to George, then. Call it a birthday present." 

"But you'll come?" 

Katie looked up. Oliver was looking at her again, his eyes searching. She sighed and closed her eyes. 

"Yeah. I'll come." 

The pleasure in Oliver's was obvious. "Great!" He turned in what sounded like George's direction. "I'll owl them to you first thing in the morning. You're still at the Burrow, are you?" 

"No, just send them to the shop. We spend most of our time there, anyway." 

"That's the truth," Alicia muttered. There was a disgruntled snort from George (or Fred), a gasp from Fred (or George), and Oliver just laughed. Katie opened her eyes, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. 

"It really is." 

Oliver smiled over at Katie. "I'll send them there, then…." 

Fred smacked his forehead as if he had just realized something. "Or… You could just bring them to our birthday party!" 

Alicia gasped and looked over at Fred. George just laughed and shook Alicia a little, playfully. Fred went on. 

"That's it! Just bring them to our birthday party! I'd give you a date and a time, but the truth of the matter is, it's _supposed_ to be a surprise party, so I'll have to have Angie send you the details…." 

"Fred!" Alicia growled, her brows drawn closely together. "There is no birthday party…." 

George looked at Alicia and winked. "Of _course_ there isn't…." 

Oliver laughed loudly, shaking his head. "You're sure it's all right?" 

George and Fred spoke together. "Perfectly." 

Oliver chuckled and shook his head again. "All right, then. I'll just… wait for an owl, then? From… someone? I need to know where to 'send' the tickets…." 

George looked up toward the front of the queue. "Blimey! It's our turn next!" He looked at Oliver, then Katie. "If you two don't hurry and wrap up this little reunion, I am going to be completely without butterbeer! And that's not a pretty sight, especially at such a pivotal Quidditch match!" 

"That's the truth," Alicia muttered again, though this time there was a smile on her lips. Fred and George started pulling her away to the front of the queue. 

Katie laughed quietly and looked up at Oliver. "It really is." 

"Right." Oliver looked down at her for a long moment. Then he smiled and said, "It was… really great to see you, Katie. It's… been too long." He paused, looked at the ground, back up into Katie's eyes, lowering his voice. "I…." 

Katie's heart tightened a little painfully, but she smiled and said quickly, "It was good to see you too, Oliver. Take care of yourself." 

Oliver paused again, then nodded and turned one corner of his mouth up in a smile. "Well, I'd best be off… I've been away too long, as it is. My mates will think I've run away with some pretty girl, and I'll never hear the end of it." 

Katie didn't have anything to say to that. Oliver watched her a moment longer, then let a full smile creep over his mouth. "Anyway… So I guess I'll see you later?" 

Katie took a deep breath, wanting desperately to say no, but the situation had quickly seemed to spin out of control, and her along with it. "I guess so… Tell your family I said hello, will you?" 

Oliver nodded. "I will, if you'll do the same for me." 

Katie nodded, but said nothing more. Oliver nodded again and turned to go. Katie watched him walk away. Oliver took a few steps, then turned back to look at Katie. A long moment passed, and then Oliver turned and disappeared into the crowd. Katie watched the spot where he had disappeared for a long moment, then turned and sighed miserably, rubbing her hands over her face. 

_ Why him? _

_ Why now? _

_ Oh, ruddy…. _

"Katie? Hey, wasn't that Fred and George I saw just a moment ago..? Katie?" 

Katie lowered her hands to see Angelina standing in front of her. Angelina looked decidedly more comfortable, but there was a sincerely concerned expression in her dark eyes, and in the way she laid a gentle hand on Katie's arm. 

"Katie? Are you all right? Merlin, girl, you look as though you've seen a ghost…." 

Katie smiled in spite of herself and breathed out a little disbelieving laugh. 

"Well Angie, it's funny you should say that…."

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**A/N: **Whew! I would like to apologize for the delay in posting this chapter! Life's been fairly hectic lately, and I'm afraid I got a bit distracted. ^_^ But here it is, at long last! Oliver's first appearance, and I hope it doesn't disappoint! I'm thinking... that maybe the next chapter will be from Mr. Wood's point of view. There's a lot going on with that side of the story, as well.... ^_^ We will just have to see....

And, of course, another **huge** "thank you" to all those who have taken the time to review this silly little story! ^_^ It is because of you, and ** for** you, that this chapter is here! 

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**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simply have a severe case of novel envy.


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